Pity the Loveless
by JayPolar
Summary: [FULL SUMMARY INSIDE] Harry Potter – known as the Boy Who Lived – ironically had died by the hands of the wizard who engraved that sobriquet as if it told his whole story. Now faced with a choice, he could go back in time before the Wizarding War. No. He can go back even further. He could go back to a different war created by muggles...
1. Chapter 1: King's Cross

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter. All characters in the series are rightfully owned by J.K. Rowling. All original characters and plot changes that are made in the story are written by me (JayPolar).

**PLEASE READ BOTH AUTHOR'S NOTE BEFORE READING THE CHAPTER!**

**A/N: **Welcome everyone! This is going to be pretty long message, but please bear with me. I would have placed it in a different entry, but content guidelines say I cannot. However, this information is important.

As a fan of both film and book series of Harry Potter, I wanted to take on the challenge of creating my first, and hopefully not my last, fanfiction of the wizarding world. Now, I know there are people who have not yet read the books but have watched the films. As such, this fiction will be based on the films and not the books. If that disappointed you, don't worry. I will still include in a few book information in the story as this fiction will be a based in the past – particularly Tom Riddle Jr.'s era.

With that being said, there are a few things that I should warn you all. This fiction is set around 1941in England. If you are not aware of your history, this was during Word War II. The United Kingdom was, in a nutshell, not great. So, there will be some historical content here and there. Additionally, people's view back then of same-sex relationship was not great. Despite that, I believe that wizards and witches would not fall under such views. I will not press further on the why aspect as it will be revealed by the characters themselves.

Now, on to the pressing matter. Who is the same-sex couple in the story? My plan is to have an end-game relationship, so to speak, between Tom Riddle Jr. and Harry Potter. I say "so to speak" because this fiction's main focus is on the purity – or not so purity – of their relationship. So, that means there will be no scenes of _that_ kind in the story. I wanted to warn you all about my plan with the relationship because some of you might be looking for a different take on the relationship – this is just mine.

On a different note, another warning is that this fiction is driven by the characters themselves. Therefore, mischiefs, adventure, and all that fun stuff that we all know and love in the franchise will be included. However, it will serve as character building. This also means dialogues are important. Please read them carefully.

Moreover, this is a travel fanfiction to the past and not much Harry Potter-like-adventure was revealed during Tom's past. So, I will be taking liberty here and including my own adventures! Some of which will be adventures that I have done myself, though _much_ exaggerated for the fiction's purpose.

Finally, this is my first fiction of the HP franchise. If I made a mistake in terms of what had actually happened in the story, I do apologize. I am probably not going to change it as I already have begun weaving the pieces of the plot together. Still, I would like to know because I may plan to write another HP fiction in the future and would like to be accurate as possible. I will also try my best to be as accurate to the characters' personality and, therefore, their actions as well.

Excitement waits you now! Have a wonderful reading!

* * *

**Summary: **Harry Potter – known as the Boy Who Lived – ironically had died by the hands of the wizard who engraved that sobriquet as if it told his whole story. Now faced with a choice, he could go back in time before the Wizarding War. No. He can go back even further. He could go back to a different war created by muggles. However, he will be facing a much more daunting task than saving his friends. He had to face Tom Marvolo Riddle. The man who killed him.

**A/N:** This is quick A/N about this chapter. The beginning portion of the story has dialogues from the film Deathly Hallows part II. Credits go to J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., and Heyday Films for those amazing lines. Also, this chapter relies heavy on dialogue, but it has a purpose!

* * *

-Chapter 1: King's Cross-

"Harry Potter," Voldemort's strained voice echoed the darkened forest. "The boy who lived has come to die."

Harry closed his eyes and not a second more the cursed spell of Avada Kedavra erupted. Surprisingly, the pain was but a small tingle that lingered for bit before all his sensation disappeared along with it. When he woke up, brightness engulfed his view. His eyes had to adjust the stark contrast that he witnessed earlier. He stood up from the ground and wondered to a bench. Underneath it laid a horrid and bloodied small body of what used to be Voldemort.

"You can't help him," came a voice. Harry looked up and saw it was none other the headmaster himself – Albus Dumbledore. "Harry, you wonderful boy. You brave, brave man. Let us walk."

So, they did. They talked and Harry raised several questions. After a short while, they sat on a bench.

"I have to go back, don't I?" Harry asked.

"That's up to you," Dumbledore merely replied.

"I have a choice?"

"Oh yes," Dumbledore looked around as if he was marveling the station. "We're in King's Cross you say? I think if you so desire, you'd be able to board a train."

"And where would it take me?"

"On," he grinned. The elderly wizard stood up and looked ahead. "But, if you wish to go beyond, that is an option too."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Beyond, professor?"

"Quite so," Dumbledore continued to gaze forward. Harry felt the same tingling sensation swirl around his stomach. "I do believe that a soul attached for that long makes quite a lasting impression. Don't you?"

The boy hesitated. There was a slight whistle that erupted.

"Professor, what should I do?" Harry sounding worried as the whistle grew closer.

Dumbledore chuckled. "My boy, neither the man who placed a curse on you nor I have made you choose your path. You have done all that and more." He walked closer and placed a hand on the boy's shoulders. "Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living. And above all, all those who live without love."

With the final whistle, Harry closed his eyes and opened them once more. The brightness from earlier had almost all but disappeared and was replaced by shadows of several trees blocking the sunlight. He groaned and propped himself up. He was still in the Dark Forest, except it was a lot less dark and gloomy with the sun beaming down.

He stood up and dusted himself from the soil. Walking out of the forest was slightly difficult, but he managed to make it to Hagrid's hut. He smiled and was thankful that the half-giant and half-human friend's hut still lived in the same place back then. Thought, he should probably start saying now. Before knocking the door, he couldn't help but feel worry crawl its way into his thoughts as he realized how he had made a terrible plan. What was he supposed to say? Hello? Hagrid was still a student. He would not even be here.

As he was contemplating, the door swung open. He was knocked out and was sent to the ground rather harshly.

"Ouch!" he grumbled.

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" the half-giant apologized. He grabbed the boy from his shoulders and hurled him to a standing position. "Sorry about that! Oh, and who might ye' be?"

"I-I'm…"

"Are you a first year?" Hagrid asked raising an eyebrow as he eyed the boy strangely. "Of course ye' are! What are you doin' out here? And where are your robes? Ye' know ye' could get points taken away."

"I-I just got here," Harry finally answered. He was shocked for a moment at how small his voice was. More importantly, why was his friend in the hut? Hagrid raised an eyebrow. "And got lost."

"Of course, ye' did," Hagrid smiled. "I can go and take ye' to the Headmaster 'nd get ye' sorted out."

The boy nodded his head. They were both awfully quiet on the way to the Headmaster. Though, Hagrid was able to get out a name.

"Enter," the Headmaster called. The two strolled in. The tall man introduced the boy and had to bid off. Apparently, Hagrid has not changed much and was still taking care of a creature from an injury. What creature, Harry does not have the faintest of idea. Though, how was it possible for the young version of his friend be given such tasks at such a young age?

Now faced with the Headmaster alone, the boy should feel a bit of relief that he no longer had to lie to his friend. However, he was faced with another challenged. He was not in front of Albus Dumbledore, but of Armando Dippet. He had forgotten that Dumbledore was not yet the Headmaster until much later.

"Hello, sir," Harry greeted the man.

"Yes, hello Mr. Potter," the old wizard hummed. He seemed to be more fixated on his writing than the boy, but it wasn't long until his gaze fell on him. The resemblance of Harry's own Headmaster and this one was too uncanny. Was this how all Headmaster looked like?

"Come, sit," Dippet ushered him to a chair that sat in front of his own table. Harry sat on it and waited. Dippet did not seem to mind the silence, but Harry was down right anxious. He did not prepare for any of this. What was he thinking anyway? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

"Sir, I can explain."

Dippet raised his hand and opened a drawer with the other. There were soft rustling sounds of paper before a piece of candy was taken out. "Ah, here it is. Care for one?"

It was Sherbet Lemon. Harry slowly grabbed it from his hand and popped it in his mouth.

The old wizard grinned and grabbed another one for himself. "Wonderful flavour is it not?"

"Mhm," Harry nodded in agreement. Then, the boy's eyes fell to the reflection of his face being on the glassed chalice next to him. He had turned into his younger self. His eyes grew. He quickly turned around to face the Headmaster, who was, thankfully, busy dusting off the hat.

Dippet placed the hat back on its secured spot and sat back down only to look at Harry in deep thought. "I supposed that a proper introduction has yet to be made."

Harry swallowed the remaining candy. "My name's Harry Potter. And I…"

Dippet's deepened his gaze on the boy.

"I'm sorry for being late," Harry ended. The Headmaster's gaze softened and smiled.

"That's all right, my boy," he reassured. "I'm glad you came back."

Before Harry could further question the man, Dippet transfigured a new attire for the boy. He was now wearing a black tie, a white and short sleeved collar shirt, brown shorts that fell just above the knee, and a pair of black laced up Oxford shoes. Since he had aged back, the clothes he was wearing during the Wizarding War engulfed his now smaller frame. So, when Dippet transfigured his clothes, the new ones became ill-fitting despite at how dressed up he was.

"I think that would suit the current fashion in this time better, don't you, Mr. Potter?"

If his doe-like eyes could grow any bigger, it would be twice the size as it is. The Headmaster does know something.

"Sir…"

"Now, my boy, we should not keep the other students waiting longer. Let us speak at a better time," Dippet smiled at him and the boy returned it.

* * *

When they arrived in the Great Hall, the loud chatter turned into hushed mummers. It was as if it was Harry's first year again – which, technically it was. He could feel a bit of heat rise to the tips of his ears. He gazed down, but Dippet placed his soft hands around the young boy. Harry tense shoulders eased and looked up to meet a familiar man.

"Dumbledore," Harry whispered. It caught the Headmaster's attention, but his face pressed head on to the front. On the other hand, both the boy and the professor gave each other a friendly smiled.

Although he stood in front of the podium with his back turned to the students, he could tell that their eyes were all piercing him. When Dippet stood next to the sorting hat, all the whispers died off.

"Now, Mr. Harry Potter here had some circumstances at home that he was unable to come until this morning. However, I expect that he is to be welcomed as everyone no matter what house he's in. Come, my boy," the old wizard motioned him forward.

Harry sat down on the stool and the leathered hat was placed on his head.

"Oh! What's this?" the Sorting Hat voice grew quiet. "Harry Potter. Hmm… it seems like I've already made my choice before."

"You did?" Harry tried to sound as neutral as possible.

"Don't take me for a fool, Mr. Potter," the Sorting Hat retorted. "Although students would think differently, I am no jester's hat. So, let's see… Hmm… You certainly are a Gryffindor. Brave and most certainly daring enough to go back once more. And ahhh… but I do see something else. Oh yes, yes. I think that it would be best to move you to a different and more ambitious house, yes?"

"What?" he almost yelled.

"Oh, don't be a silly boy, Harry. You have done a fine job already as a Gryffindor, if I do say so myself. Have you not?"

"I-I have."

"And is it not the right time to be more ambitious and resourceful than ever?"

"But I can't be… you know…"

"You're quite right about that. Being cunning is certainly not your trait. However, I think you've learned that not all students, unlike yourself, portray all traits of their house."

"So, I don't have to be cunning?"

"Do I have to be pretty to do my duty?"

"No?" the boy answered.

"That was rhetorical, but at least you've found your answer," the Sorting Hat chuckled. "SLYTHERIN!"

The crowd of Slytherin students all cheered. There were several other students from the other houses that cheered, but some disgruntle as they did not receive the new student that seemed to be on the good side of the Headmaster. Dippet himself was clapping. Dumbledore was taken back for a moment, but a wrinkled smile spread across his face.

Sitting in the middle of the Slytherin table, though, was a tall and handsome boy. He was slowly clapping, unlike everyone else around him clapping like madmen. His eyes were too busy studying the newly Slytherin student. When their eyes met, his cold, blue eyes glinted with curiosity.

* * *

**A/N: **Wow, that was a lot of dialogue. Hopefully, you all still enjoyed the chapter! I plan to make Tom's physical appearance like the one in the film – particularly the one in the Chamber of Secrets. So, his eyes will be blue instead of brown, as the book portrayed him with dark eyes. There is a reasoning as to why I chose the film version!

As for how often this fiction will get updated, I plan on doing one to two chapters per week as I'm on vacation right now. Though, not sure what days. I'm also on a roll right now. So, I'm currently writing the next chapter already. Expect it to come up pretty soon!

Again, thank you so much for reading my first HP fanfiction. Please let me know what you think. I would love to hear from all of you!


	2. Chapter 2: Mixing Colours

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter. All characters in the series are rightfully owned by J.K. Rowling. All original characters and plot changes that are made in the story are written by me (JayPolar).

**A/N: ***nervous but humble laughter* So… I did not expect to get people to follow and favourite this story right away. Thank you so much! I also want to thank mariyah for your review! Sorry I couldn't place your full username. FanFiction keeps erasing it. Yes, Tom was indeed _curious_. Wink. Wonk.

If anyone of you have questions, observations, or comments, it would be much apricated if you leave a review! I would like to get some feedback on how it's going so far. :)

* * *

-Chapter 2: Mixing Colours-

After being sorted, Harry maneuvered his way to the Slytherin table and was greeted with several welcomes. It was strange to say the least with him sitting side by side students of the opposing house. Still, he politely shook some of their hands and nodded to those who were far away. Last to greet him was the prefect. The boy had not expected to be suddenly confronted by Tom Riddle himself. Nevertheless, the two shook hands. And maybe it was because of what Dumbledore had said at cleaner King's Cross station that a sudden tingling sensation overcame him. He rubbed his forehead and felt his scar. It returned. Panic struck him for a moment, but was, thankfully, ignored by the sudden meal that appeared in front of them.

The rest of afternoon meal was uneventful besides the short panic episode. Though, several of the students asked him question. Harry tried to reveal little information about him as possible. One could not be too careful around his housemates, especially with Tom's gaze being fixated on him. Was he able to tell through his lies? It should be impossible. Then, again, he knew how smart the young wizard was. Harry continued to try to be oblivious and carried on conversations that were, in his defense, half-truths.

"Bye, Harry!" Elanna, the Slytherin student sitting next to him stood up. He noticed how other students from other houses were also leaving to go to the afternoon classes. "Come on Glinda!"

"It was nice to meet you!" Glinda grinned. "H-hey! Wait up!"

Before Harry could walk away from the table, he heard his name being called. It was Tom. And Tom Riddle was smiling. Immediately, the boy felt petrified. Anytime Voldemort had smiled, it always meant something was going to go his way. He shook the thought away and remembered what Dumbledore's final words to him.

The young wizard stood up and seemed to only take one step to enter Harry's personal space. Just as he had finally grown tall enough, he had to go back to his younger and shorter body. Thus, resorting the boy into straining his neck up to view the prefect.

"Ready?" Tom asked.

"For what?"

"I'm escorting you to the Slytherin Common Room, of course," Tom answered.

"Oh, right! I need to talk to Headmaster Dippet first."

"I see… well, I must say that by the time you finished talking to the Headmaster I would be in class. I don't suppose you would mind waiting for a few more hours until my classes are over then?" Tom raised an eyebrow.

Harry looked over to Dippet's direction, but the old wizard must have gone back into his room finishing whatever he was writing earlier. "I'll take that offer. I don't want to intrude your lunch break."

Tom smirked. "It's fine… may I call you Harry?"

"Sure."

"All right. And it's fine, Harry. It's my job after all."

He wanted to compose himself from his not-so-little predicaments. Alas, with that reasoning, the boy could not conjure a reasonable explanation to not go to the Slytherin Dugeon. They excused themselves from the table and strolled off. Along the way, several students greeted the two of them. However, most eyes and greetings came in Tom's direction. Harry admits that he could not stray his eyes off the young man in front of him as well. However, his reasonings were probably much more different than the eyes of the other students.

In front of him was the man who had started the senseless war. In front of him was the man who had killed a plethora of innocent lives and, in a way, his own. In front him was the man who cursed him. However, he was also the same man that has yet to do all of those things. Anyone with eyes could tell through the way he walked as if without care in the world that he was still free of those horrendous acts. It left Harry to struggle on what to feel. It was not like he could not despise him. He can, but he was unable to. Even with being free from Voldemort's soul, he still felt like he could not hate the wizard.

Maybe Dumbledore was right. Maybe it was because his soul had been attached for so long that it was hard to fill that empty spot. Was that also why the scar came back? He continued to stare at the young wizard pondering at the questions that filled his head. He could not explain why he had gone back so far in time as go to Voldemort's youth. He could have simply gone back to his first year and destroyed the Horcruxes without others being involved or sacrificed.

He reached for his scar but quickly pulled his arm down when Tom stopped walking. Suddenly, they were finally in front of the Slytherin Dungeon.

"Slytherin Salazar," Tom uttered. Harry chuckled at the alliteration. The prefect rolled his eyes. "Don't blame me for our password. It wasn't my idea."

They entered the common room. Nothing much had changed. It was still the same decorations, though it was darkly lit by only several candles. Electricity was scarce during this time, so it was not surprising that Hogwarts too fell under it.

"Boys are on the left," Tom pointed. "Your belongings should be there."

"Belongings?" Harry asked.

"Yes, your belongings. A house elf should have placed it there by now. Should we go check?" Tom suggested.

"Uh, sure."

When they entered the room, Tom ushered him to his bed. And lo and behold there was a trunk placed at the foot of his bed and a small luggage on top of it. He opened the luggage and found several clothing and a notebook with an attached letter.

"Is everything there? If not, I can…"

"No, everything's here," Harry interrupted. Headmaster Dippet probably gave the clothes and notebook to him. "Is there anything else?"

"I should be asking you that," Tom smirked. "Other than showing you your bed and the common room, I don't suppose that there is anything else that I must show you. Though, I do suggest finding your classes and getting your books. You will start classes next week."

Harry thanked Tom, and the young wizard took off for his class. Alone was what Harry wanted, but now that he was, he had never truly felt more alone as he was now. His friends were not there with him. Dumbledore was here, but it was not the Dumbledore that he knew. Thinking of the old wizard made him stomp his foot on the ground and take in a deep breath. This was no time to wallow in second guessing his choice. He made one and he was going to stick to it.

He was going to change the timeline even if it killed him.

* * *

Tom had never been unsure about anything. He always had an inkling about anything that peaked his interest. Eventually, though, it was easily resolved and his interest on it falls. However, with the new Slytherin boy, that notion had yet to crumble. Harry Potter. A boy who lived with his aunt and uncle since birth. He could only assume that the boy's parents had died or gave up on him. The latter did not seem accurate, but the young boy did not reveal much so it was difficult to come to a conclusion. Still, his hunches have not failed him.

Other than that, all the other intel that he gathered from the questions his housemates asked were useless. Why do people like to talk about such trivial things such as one's favorite pet? It baffles the Slytherin heir.

He walked in just in time for Potions class to start.

"Ah, Mr. Riddle, I'm glad you could join us. Showed the new student his room have you?" Professor Slughorn sounded pleased.

"Yes, professor," Tom cracked a smile, earning the house another 10 points for merely doing his job. It was too easy.

* * *

Harry made it to Dippet's office once more. Thankfully the password had not yet changed from this morning. When he entered the room, he was surprised for the millionth time today to find Dippet and Dumbledore talking to each other. When they turned around, it as if he was looking at two grandfathers.

"Harry," Dippet grinned. "May I help you?"

It was as if the old wizard knew what he was about to ask, he told both Dumbledore and him to take a seat.

"Tea?" the Headmaster offered to him.

"No, thank you, sir," Harry respectfully declined.

"I congratulate you again, Mr. Potter, on entering the Slytherin house," Dumbledore smiled.

"Thank you, professor, and Harry's just fine," he corrected.

"All right, then. Was the common room to your liking?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes, it was sir."

The two old wizards nodded in approval. It was Dippet's turn to speak. "Did you receive all of your belongings?"

"Yes, sir."

"That's good," he grinned.

There was silence between the three of them until Dippet finally broke the silence. "I see we are all short for words. Did you need something, my boy?"

"I wanted to speak to you about what happened this morning, I –"

"Harry, if this is about _that_, I do think that it is best to not speak further on the matter," Dippet warned. The boy plastered a confused look.

"A man with knowledge is only as powerful as the knowledge he received unless it is known by one too many," Dumbledore sipped his tea. He smacked his lips together. "Tiefoo tea? Excellent choice, Armando."

"Thank you, Albus," Dippet sipped his own cup gleefully at the compliment.

Harry eyed the two old wizards that were quietly drinking their tea. He started fidgeting with his fingers. He had hope to get some answers. Finally, after a few sips later, the silence was broken.

"My boy," Dumbledore grasp his shoulder and squeezed it ever so lightly. "I think it's best to remember who you are. There are two great houses that ride your name, is there not, Armando?"

"Quite so, Dumbledore," he answered. Harry flustered. He knew that Headmaster Dippet had somehow communicated with the Sorting Hat. "Two polar opposite, I believe. Yet, together, they create the color of the path in which we all take…"

"Trust in it," Dumbledore finished and released his grip from the boy's shoulders.

Harry took in every word before nodding his head. Just before he departed, he took one last glance behind him only to see the two old wizards facing each other chatting about tea.

* * *

**A/N: **Fun fact! The British are obviously famous for drinking tea – myself included. However, with WWII, it became rationed. Still, people obviously drank tea. The brand's name in the fiction has been changed to avoid copyright. However, bonus points for those who know what it is!

Also, don't expect too much of Tom's point of view, but when it does occur… I would pay attention. However, much of anyone's perspective and lines are quite important to plot. So, I highly suggest to NOT SKIP LINES.

Side note, this will probably be the regular length of the story.

PLEASE DO REVIEW! I may be updating once or twice a week, maybe more, but that does not mean I feel sad when I do not receive feedback. However, I do appreciate your follows, favourites, and the one reviewer! Thank you all!


	3. Chapter 3: Ignorance

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter. All characters in the series are rightfully owned by J.K. Rowling. All original characters and plot changes that are made in the story are written by me (JayPolar).

**A/N: **Thank you very much for all the new reviews, follows, and favourites! To address your comment (Mariyah), I will try my best to update twice a week. I'm currently on vacation so it is possible. However, it will may slow down at times as I try to justice to the characters whilst trying to add in my own twist.

Speaking of chapters, they will now be longer! I compared this fiction with the other one that I'm working on and the other one (Merlin fanfiction) was a lot longer. In light of this, I will extend the average length of my HP fiction chapters.

And thank you to Fae0306 and CuddlyMakani for your lovely comments! :D

**Warning! **Chapter contains a dead body (and cute scene to soothe your souls).

* * *

-Chapter 3: Ignorance-

After speaking with the old wizards, Harry felt confused but no longer nervous to face the daunting task. He strolled back to his room in the Slytherin Dungeon to unpack. Opening the luggage, he placed his belongings in the trunk. As he was about to place his new notebook in with the rest, a piece of letter fell to the floor. He picked it up and read.

_As a thank you. – A.D._

The boy smiled at the handwritten letter and tucked it away in the notebook. Before closing the luggage and hauling in at the bottom of his bed, he saw a small pouch. Inside of it were several coins. It was enough to buy to what he needed and more. He tossed the luggage underneath the bed and launched his way to the Hogwarts Express hoping to make it in time to go to Diagon Alley and back to at least pick up his robes. It would not do well for a house member to not wear his or her robe.

"Ticket for one please," Harry asked.

"Two Sickle," the ticket argent put out his hand. Harry fumbled around his pocket and handed the man the coins.

"And make sure you come back promptly at six so you can make it in time before curfew."

"O-oh, thanks… umm…"

"Message was delivered here to allow a student with glasses and a scar to hop the train," the ticket argent spoke without sounding amused. Harry left the man and hear him mumble. "I have to babysit now too?"

* * *

When he left the 9¾ platform and entered the muggle side of the King's Cross station, it was sight to behold. He could not believe at how messy the station was like. It made his timeline's station look like the floor that he constantly cleaned when he lived with the Dursley family. Yet, the proof was right in front of him. However, it was to no fault of the station. Muggles were currently at war. When he went outside, it was no better. There were several people out in the streets and several buildings were torn to the ground. Harry quickly tried to find a newspaper, but eventually had to resorted into asking someone.

"Yah git, think it's funny don't yah?" the boy spat. "It's the fifteenth of September."

The boy stomped off and continued to grumble in annoyance. Harry gulped. It was today. The bombs dropped in London and several other cities. He should have known. He mentally apologized to the boy and walked to the Leaky Cauldron. Remembering the pattern that Hagrid showed him, he managed to enter the place and spent a small part of the afternoon wondering around Diagon Alley for a bit after he picked up his robes.

The place was pretty much the same. Cobblestones made the path. Stores nearly sticking to each other. Overwhelming amount of people even without the other first years clogging the pathways. He laughed at his memory of the first time he entered Diagon Alley. He sputtered at how everything looked, well, magical. Even to this day, he was amazed at the stark difference was between this place and the other just opposite of the wall he entered. Outside that wall was chaos. A chaos that he was no part of and does not want to be a part of.

In luck, he stumbled on a watch store and saw that it was half past five. It gave him enough time to go back to King's Cross station at the allotted time and make it back to Hogwarts before curfew. With that, he finished his exploration and walked back out into the chaos. Along the way, he had to make sure that no one tried to take his bag that had his robes. He hugged it close to his body and sped his pace.

It was not a strange sight for the boy to see the effects of war. He was just in one and, in a way, still is. However, it would be ignorant and plainly stupid to say that one gets used to war. No one does. It came with unfathomable costs. His thoughts were suddenly broken with an ear-piercing shriek. He knew what that sound was and tried to avoid turning his head to the noise. Still, he did and regretted that he did. His whole body became full of anger and sorrow.

A woman with trembling hands painfully dropped to her knees and crawled toward rubbles. Harry should stay away but it was if his legs had their own thoughts and dragged him to witness the horror. Under the stones of what used to be part of the building was a body. He could not see the rest, but the individual's arm was peaking from underneath. Around the wrist wrapped a small beaded bracelet. Cueing him to leave was when the woman started bawling.

Making it just in time, he silently entered the Hogwarts Express and kept his gaze out the window. He was glad that he did not buy any food to eat. It would have not remained his stomach for much long after witnessing that. He shook the thoughts and preoccupied his thoughts to the steady sound of the train's engine that was lulling him to sleep.

* * *

A loud whistle abruptly woke the boy up. He rubbed his sleepy eyes and yawned.

"Come on," the conductor gently helped him make his way out of the train and back to the tracks. He thanked the man and was slowly making his way back to the path toward Hogwarts.

"Harry!" someone yelled. The boy turned around and saw that it was none other than Hagrid. "Glad ye' made it back in one piece! Headmaster Dippet told me to come and pick ye' up. Come on, I'll ye' back."

He thankful that Hagrid did all the talking. He was in no mood to talk. However, in respect, he stayed awake and threw a few comments back. After a short ride, he made it back to the entrance and thanked the man for his kind gesture.

It was almost painful to walk back to the common room. Not only did his head hurt, but his whole body ached. So, when he finally reached his bed, he plopped down forgetting to change into his pajamas. However, it was not too long until he heard laughter slowly crawling it way up.

"Harry! There you are!" someone had called him.

"You idiot, can't you see he's asleep?" another whispered harshly, which was followed by a soft _oomph_ sound from the other student.

There were still shuffles and mumbles for several minutes until it finally simmered down to only a few whispers. Throughout it all, Harry was breathing softly on his bed ignorant of what was those conversations held.

* * *

When he woke up, it was to his dismay that it was still dark outside. Had he only been asleep for a short time? He groggily got up and twisted his body to a sitting position. His eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room and saw that everyone was still sleeping. He felt his body grow uncomfortable with the sudden feeling of coldness hitting. He would have change right then and there, but the curtain around their beds were not yet available. Despite it being almost pitch black and everyone asleep, he decided it was best to change in the washroom. He needed to use the toilet anyways. He hunted for his pajamas in the dark. When he felt the loose cloth between on his fingers, he grabbed them and headed out.

It took a bit of fumbling around, but he found his wand. He did a quick flick of the wrist and casted Lumos. As he made his way there, he was hoping that he would not run into any of the prefects, though with his luck and without the Marauders Map it was impossible. So, it came as a surprise that he managed to make it there and change. However, his luck ran out when he bumped into his the Slytherin prefect just as he was about to turn the corridor.

"Harry," Tom greeted him.

"Riddle," he returned.

"I thought you were asleep."

"I was, but I woke up from being cold."

The prefect nodded his head as if he was trying to decide on something. "You know, I should be taking points from you being out after curfew."

"But you're out too," Harry retorted.

"And for that snarky comment to a _prefect_," Tom glared. "But I suppose that embarrassing yourself was enough of a punishment."

"Embarrassed?"

Tom motioned his finger up and down on his shirt. Harry looked down on his own and saw that he had completely missed three buttons and the rest were in the wrong places. He knew trying to button in the dark stupid. Yet, he could not risk getting caught so he had to stop casting the spell. It most certainly did not help as it backfired instead in the most mortifying way. He quickly puts his wand underneath his armpit, which broke the Lumos spell, to fix the buttons. Thankfully, Tom was respectful enough to not embarrass him any further and stopped casting Lumos. Though "respect" may be not the term he ever thought he would label Voldemort – no, Tom Riddle or had he already named himself Lord Voldemort?

"Done," he declared. Tom casted the spell again as Harry cleared his throat. "Thanks… So, can I go back to my room?"

"Of course," Tom smiled, but Harry felt that there was something off about it. "If you stumble on any of the other prefects, just tell them I took care of it already."

Harry nodded his head without looking him and walked away before anything else happened. Gratefully, he did not encounter any other prefects and went back to bed.

The second time that he woke up, he was greeted by the morning sun. He noticed several of the beds were unoccupied and were left unkempt. They had already gone to who knows where. A few were still in bed or changing. None of them noticed him wide a until someone asked if he was awake. He quickly shots his eyes close and pretended to sleep. He turned to his left side and accidentally locked eyes with the person next to his bed.

"He's still asleep," Tom answered them. Some of them grunted in annoyance but accepted.

"He sure is a heavy sleeper," one of them commented. Laughter bursts in the room, but died out as they left.

"They're gone," Tom whispered. Harry slowly peaked out from underneath his blanket to check. Although he could hardly see anything without his glasses, it did not mean he could not see blobs of figures. When no blob figures appeared, he lets out a sigh of relief. "You okay?"

"Fine, thanks," he replied. He slid out of his bed and placed his glasses on. With clearer vision, it took Harry a moment to realized that he saw Tom had already changed into a casual attire. He was wearing a dark wool sweater with a green piping on the neck of it. Underneath was a simple white collard shirt. He wore a black necktie and trousers. His wavy hair was perfectly resting on his head where not a speck was out of place. Overall, his whole look made the young wizard look humane.

"Ready?" Tom asked.

"For what?" Harry was busy looking for a pair trousers for himself. Although Dippet had kindly given him two pairs to start with, when he lifted it out of the trunk, he could tell that they were already too big for him.

"To get everything from your supply list," Tom clarified. "I assumed that you weren't able to get everything yesterday."

"Well, you assumed correctly, but why do you need to come with me?"

"Because it's your first year and you might not know where to get them?" he cocked an eyebrow.

Harry inwardly sighed. He knew that he should act like a first year, but that was the problem. He wasn't. He was in his final years of Hogwarts and knew practically everything that there was – even the secrets that the place held. Secrets that no one will no longer need to know besides himself. However, for that to happen one thing needs to happen first. He needs to figure out what to do to stop Tom Riddle from becoming Voldemort. To do that, he needs to hit the books. Dread filled him.

"Very courteous of you, Riddle," Harry rolled his eyes as he grabbed his pair of shoes.

"I take that as a yes then?"

"Understand it to what you will, but once I have everything, we're going back immediately."

"Of course," Tom agreed. "I do have some assignments that need to be done."

The boy nodded his head in approval. He walked down the stairwell and made his way to the washroom. Thinking that if he took his time Tom would be bored and had gone ahead to do his assignment, he decided to take a bath. It was a lot more difficult that he had hoped. Running water was not available and if he wanted hot water, he would need to cast a spell to warm it up or a bucket over a fire. Having no idea where to get the water, he shyly asked the student on the other tub where he got the water.

"Figure that out yourself, Potter," the boy hummed as he descended his head further into the water. Furious at the Slytherin boy and for not buying much more time that he had hoped, he changed in one of the stalls.

Appearing back in the room after a few minutes, he found Tom still sitting on his bed. His body propped up against the backboard of the bed. The young wizard looked up from his book and flashed a smile.

"Ready?"

"Sure," Harry muttered with the least enthusiastic voice.

* * *

**A/N: **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter! Again, since this fiction takes place in 1940, I find that I should include in some historical aspects. I also find that the wizarding world and the muggle world can face quite similar struggles. However, wizards have it a bit easier as they do have magic. So, warming up cold water is not a big deal for them, for example.

Speaking of similarities between muggles and wizards, both have to take an exam. Dreadfully, the GSCE is right around the corner. So, I decided to upload this early as a gift. **GOOD LUCK TO THOSE TAKING THE GSCE! **Hope you all did your revisions. *wink*


	4. Chapter 4: A Small Trip

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter. All characters in the series are rightfully owned by J.K. Rowling. All original characters and plot changes that are made in the story are written by me (JayPolar).

**A/N: **Wow! I'm happy that you noticed that detail Mariyah! It was difficult choice for me to make as Harry can sometimes make some chaotic choices. But I do love my characters to be chaotic sometimes… (hehehe)

* * *

-Chapter 4: A Small Trip-

Reaching Diagon Alley was not any easier for Harry the second time. He still had to pass the war scene, but it was a good thing. He was able to take note on Tom's reaction. In return, it could potentially help him understand the young wizard's personality. And, sad to say, there was not much that he knew about him despite communicating with his soul through the diary. The only thing that boy knows was his foul view towards muggles – as with many other Slytherin household members, so no surprise there. The trip was a more-or-less a reaffirmation of it when a disgusted look briefly occupied Tom's face as a muggle accidentally bumped into him. Other than that, he saw nothing out of the ordinary. However, it was not until he quickly covered his face with politeness towards the muggle that Harry felt like there was something more to Tom. Why would he go through the trouble of being polite?

If he was going to try and stop the future from happening, he needed to get to know him past the façade that the young wizard seemed to have mastered. Coincidentally, Harry was a master at the art of putting a face that everyone thought he was. He had done it so many times that he almost believed himself to be this strong headed boy that people can look up to. A mask so strong that people were even willing to die for. Yet, because of those deaths, he removed the mask. He showed them his pitiful side and his utter incompetence as the so-called hero that will one day kill Lord Voldemort. Nonetheless, he had also learned a lesson. Removing the mask, he saw his friends and how little they cared that he was the Boy Who Lived or the fate that was attached to his name. They saw him for who he was. It did not make the deaths any less painful, but they kept him from putting on a brave face.

Now, he was going to avenge their deaths, or future deaths, by doing what he now must do. And this time, he no longer needed a mask.

* * *

Their first destination was Flourish and Blotts.

"Why are we getting them first? It's going to be heavy carrying them around," Harry whined. It sounded rather too whiny than he had intended, but it was the truth. Due to the brilliant childcare he was raised in, he almost had the body of a house elf.

"Don't worry, Harry. I can carry them," Tom assured him, though it did anything but. "I need to grab something from there anyways."

"And it can't wait, why?"

"It's rather important…" he replied meekly. _Meekly_. Something that he did not imagine Tom Riddle would ever sound.

"Fine."

When they entered the store, there was a few older wizards occupying the space. Both Slytherin students split their direction – Harry taking the route to the schoolbooks and Tom wondered who knows where. After about ten minutes, there was only one book left that he needed: Arsenius Jigger's _Magical Drafts and Potions_. As he made his way to the next aisle, he heard muffling noise emitting just the opposite side. He tip-toed his way closer to the sound. He grabbed the ladder and climbed it to the top. Taking the thinnest book from the shelf, he peaked at who the voice was coming from.

"I'm sorry, but we don't have _it_," the man in front of Tom apologized.

"_It_ was here yesterday, and I kindly asked for you to hold it for me until I came back," Tom's did not hesitate to express a venomous tone.

"And I did," the man asserted. "For as long as I could. But this is a _bookstore_, where books are constantly sold to customers who were willing to pay –"

Before he could utter another word, Tom was reaching out of his wand. Harry's eyes flew wide open and stumbled. Without thinking, he tried to balance himself by grabbing the bookshelf he was leaning on. The bookshelf met with his force and both ended up knocking out the whole shelf… and the one after… and the one after. Thankfully, a staff member was able to stop the domino effect.

"Arresto momentum!" she yelled. Harry could see everything around him slow down. The lady that casted the spell rolled her eyes. After she fixed everything back in an upright position, she finally walked over to him. He was a few feet above ground and was still slowly falling.

"Finite Incantatum," she casted. Immediately, Harry fell down with a thud. He sheepishly stood up and brushed his robes.

"I'm sorry, I –"

"Save it," she held her arm up. "Just be glad that no one got hurt. I suspect you were looking for this?"

She handed him her the book that he was looking for.

"T-thanks."

"Yeah, sure," she muttered. "Just don't come back here until next year, okay?"

Harry nodded his head and walked over to where he last saw Tom. He saw him stand up and dust off. His anger quickly disappeared when his sight fell on him.

"Harry!" he called out in concern. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, and I got everything…" Harry paused. "Did you get whatever you wanted?"

"No," he sneered at the older man in front of them. "But I think I think I can find a way."

Harry left it at that. He could tell that the young wizard was not going to tell him anything further. So, they both made their way to the counter. The woman earlier was now behind the register. Before they left, he took a glance at the young wizard accompanying him. He was looking less malicious as earlier, but he could tell that frustration was still etched in him even with his head turned to the side.

"Is there a sweetshop somewhere?" he asked the tall boy.

"Huh?" Tom turned around.

"Never mind."

The crease in Tom's forehead smoothened. "There's one near the entrance. We can go there after we finished getting everything else. Are you all right with that?"

"Fine with me," Harry shrugged. He handed the bag of books. "You said you'd carry it."

* * *

Nearing the afternoon, Tom asked him if he was hungry. He avoided answering and said that they were nearly done. Stopping to eat would only cause them to stay longer than necessary. Tom simply shrugged his shoulders and turned his attention elsewhere. As such, the rest of the afternoon went by in silence. A few words were spoken between them when they were inside the Sugarplum's Sweetshop.

Harry bought a small bag of sweets whilst Tom had simply tagged behind him. On the way out, they were spotted by several Slytherin students that were coming in from the entrance.

"Afternoon," one of them greeted Tom. Apparently, Harry's lack of knowledge of the boy's name was transparent. "It's Avery."

"What are you doing here, Avery?" Tom asked. The air stiffened.

"I'm with Lestrange and Nott. They're late at the moment, but we're here to get some candy for Rosier," he answered.

"I see," Tom nodded whilst Harry gulped. He remembered those names. They were the Slytherin members of Lord Voldemort's first Death Eaters.

"So, Harry what –"

"Does he have a particular sweet that he like?" the boy interrupted Avery. Both young wizards looked at him. "If just wants a sweet, here, he can mine."

"Harry you don't have too," Tom tried to retreat the boy's hand.

"No, I insist," Harry grabbed Avery's hand and practically shoved the small pouch of candy to it. "I probably shouldn't ruin my appetite before eating lunch, anyway. Come on, we should get going, Riddle. Have a good afternoon, Avery."

He quickly walked off, leaving a baffled and confused young wizard behind. When they reached the 9 ¾ platform, they stood there waiting until the train arrived. Their silence was interrupted by a soft whistle in the distance. It grew louder as it drew closer. When it arrived, they picked an empty carriage. The steady hum of the engine filled the silence between them. However, Harry's own head was filled with enough thoughts to fill in the quietness outside.

First of all, he did not expect to face one of the first Death Eaters that soon. If Ron or Hermione were there, they would have probably noticed his panic – not that he would admit that he felt that way. He gratefully found relief when he managed to dodge Avery's, presumable, question about him. On that note, he had his own questions directing towards Tom himself. What was he trying to look for? Why did he need to be there? Was it all a set up for him? No, he had just met the young wizard. He could not have possibly be suspicious of the boy yet.

More importantly, how was he supposed to do any of this by himself? He trusts Dippet and Dumbledore's judgement, but it did not assuage his anxious feelings. Going back in time was not something unheard of but going back _this_ far was. Also, he can come up with plans but that does not mean they lack their faults. In fact, he was just fortunate enough that he had a best friend that he could rely on in a pinch of time. This time, though, he was by himself. No Ginny. No Ron. No Hermione.

Then, he thought about his plan of befriending Tom. Never mind whether it was good or not, but was it the only way? Making friends with someone was something he was not new to, but he knew very well it came easier when people actually knew his name to begin with. Now, no one can say that he did not try to become friends with people who did not know him. When he was younger, he tried to befriend their neighbor. Tragically, he was already friends with Dudley and was morphed into a minion. It ended up that his cousin had already turned them all into his minion, leaving Harry with difficulties at easily gaining friends with someone who had absolutely no idea who he was because it meant of a socially awkward first greeting. Despite being a Gryffindor, it still does take a bravery to initiate the first conversation with someone.

Nonetheless, he had to face it eventually. Whether this was something to be grateful about or not, but, at least, him and Tom were in the same situation. Tom did not know him, and Harry did not know Tom – respectively speaking. It was perfect. Yet, here they were… silent as an open field.

Underneath his lap, his hand clenched in frustration. He tried to get words out, but he swallowed them back in instead. He tried to resolve his anxiousness by thinking that he did not need to be friends with him. He just needed to know what he was up to and put a stop to it each time. No friendship required.

"Harry?" a voice broke his thoughts.

"Yea – yes?" he cleared his throat as if it would do any help in clearing his thoughts.

"Nothing…" he paused. "I just wanted to ask, why did you give Avery your candy?"

Harry took off his glasses and tried to clean them with his sleeves. He tried to untuck his shirt, but Tom handed him a small cloth. He hesitantly took it from him and carefully wiped his glasses.

"Thanks," he passed it back, and Tom tucked it into his back pocket. "And, like I said, I should probably eat something first before eating sweet." In reality, he wanted to get away from the situation. He did not want to face Tom and his Death Eaters only on his second day.

"I offered –"

"I know you did," he sighed. "I just wasn't hungry at that time."

"I see. And are you hungry now?"

"Pardon?" Harry's eyebrows furrowed.

"Are you hungry?" he repeated. "We could grab something to eat once drop your belongings in your trunk. I know a good place."

The crease between his eyebrows folded deeper. "Why are you doing this?"

"What do you mean?" Tom chuckled.

Harry readjusted himself into a straighter sitting position. "I mean, why have you been constantly asking me to do things with you? I've only known you for, what, a day?"

"I don't see how that's a problem. Isn't that how develop friendship?"

"I already have friends," Harry declared. This brought an abrupt silence between them. "Look, I don't mean that I don't want to be your friend. It's just you've been following me and it's getting a bit…"

"Tiresome?"

"No, uncomfortable," he corrected. "I've just had a bad experience with… someone who was constantly following me. It was more of a creepy fixation, but creepy nonetheless."

"Oh, I'm sorry, is the person still following you?" he asked with concern.

Harry smirked at the irony. "We're not that close for you to know, Riddle. But, if you must know, I'm currently taking care of it."

"That's good, then," Tom leaned back on his seat. "So, I take it that you'll be having lunch alone?"

"What makes you say that? I didn't decline your offer."

"And you didn't accept it either," Tom rebutted. "I can't read your mind, you know."

"That's comforting to know," Harry did in fact feel comfortable that the young wizard did not know the Legilimens spell yet – or did he? Tom cocked an eyebrow at the boy. "Fine, yes, I accept your offer on one condition. I want you to answer a few questions."

"And why should I answer?"

"It's the least you could do after being creepy and following me around."

"But you said I could."

"I think you know by now I have a hard time accepting offers," he reminded. "So, I would definitely remember if I did say that you could."

Tom lets out a short snort. Once more, the two fell into a silence. As if on cue, the steady rhythm of the engine resumed and filled the air. However, the air was no longer empty. It was filled with a bit of anticipation or, maybe, it was anxiety. Either way, lunch was going to be one of the most eventful meal Harry and Tom had ever experienced.

* * *

Ignoring how messy it would look, Harry dropped everything be bought inside his trunk. He slammed it shut and the two Slytherin boys jogged to the Great Hall. Sadly, when they arrived, the meal for the afternoon was already served. This prompted a small grunt from the boy.

"It's fine, Harry, I can go and make us some sandwiches," Tom offered.

"You? Making sandwiches?" Harry snorted.

"Yes? Is that a problem?"

"N-no," he tried to stifle a chuckle. He could not picture the Lord Voldemort making sandwiches and some tea in the afternoon. "I take it you are familiar with the kitchen then?"

"Come on," Tom turned and walked off in the direction of the kitchen. When he entered, all the Hogwarts house-elves paused and stared at the two of them. The young wizard did not seem fazed by it and marched to the cupboards. He grabbed a loaf of bread. Then, he made other trips to different parts of the kitchen to grab the rest of the ingredients. With swift motions, he prepared two reasonable sized sandwiches.

Harry was about to grab a bite, but Tom pulled the tray away from him. "This is no place to eat. Come on."

Tom carried the tray of food and cups as he held the pot of hot water. Some of the students that were out and about saw the two of them. They tried to greet the two, particularly Tom, but the blue-eyed wizard quickly brushed them off.

They settled on an empty corridor and sat on a ledge that was behind a large pair of stained windows. There was enough room for the two of them and the tray to sit comfortably. The scenery was not bad either. The sea filled their whole view, and it went as far the eyes could see. It amazed how he did not know this location during his timeline.

"How'd you find this place?" he inquired.

Tom finished chewing on his sandwich. "I was trying to chase a couple of first years a few days before you came and found this place after."

Harry almost sputtered his tea. "Running after first years? You seemed hardly the type."

"I wouldn't exactly call it running, more like giving them ahead start if you will. It makes the chase more fun," he smirked. Harry almost laughed, but bit on his sandwich instead. "But they were the troubling type. So, I had to cut it short. If you leave them, they would cause more chaos later."

"It's only been about week and you already sound like a veteran."

"I suppose. Does it come with a badge?"

"I can make you one," Harry blurted without thinking. Regret. That was the word that popped in his head as Tom's mouth formed into a grin. "Don't expect it to be grand or anything."

"I look forward to it."

The rest of their meal remained quiet, but, by now, the two have found comfort in it.

* * *

**A/N: **I had a hard time writing this chapter at first. I even had to make several changes because it just did not sound right. When I pushed through, though, I ended up liking the result!

Also, before you go on and start to wonder why Harry sounds so English, or at least if you are wondering that, it is because he is trying to blend in. I imagined Hogwarts as a normal English boarding school, so it is full of elites and a few middle classes. He does slip up time to time. For example, when he almost said "yeah" instead of "yes." Why this would be a problem is because of the history behind the word "yeah". I won't get into details on this because I am too lazy at the moment and it is a bit complicate, but it would just be weird for Harry to say that during this era. Harry does not actually know this. He just assumes that anyone of the upper class talked proper back then – though, I would assume the same thing. *shrugs*

Anyways, that is the only historical stuff that you need to know. I hope you enjoyed the progress between Tom and Harry. Also, I hope that you do not think that it is rushed. I am trying to progress their relationship as realistic as possible based on their characteristics – or little at that for Tom. Speaking of Tom, you will get another peak at his thoughts in the next one!

Update on the next chapter might come later this week or next week. I hope you look forward to it! :D


	5. Chapter 5: A Long Day's End

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter. All characters in the series are rightfully owned by J.K. Rowling. All original characters and plot changes that are made in the story are written by me (JayPolar).

**A/N: **Yay! I managed to post another chapter this week! However, I may have accidentally put myself in a bit of a situation… I'm currently writing and updating my fanfiction for the Merlin (a BBC show) along with this fiction. So, I'm trying to split up my time between the two. However, I'm also studying two languages and going to start work next week. HA! Ha… ha… *ahem*

I will still try to update twice a week for this fiction because it's the "least complicated" of the two stories. Still, please do excuse me if I only upload once a week! Anyways, again, I thank you for your feedback Mariyah! Also, thank you to the guest commenter!

Much love to everyone! :D

* * *

-Chapter 5: A Long Day's End-

"Are you going to ask me?" Tom broke the silence. Harry cocked his head at him. "You said that you wanted to ask me a few questions. Don't tell me you've forgotten them already?"

"Oh, that. What year are you in?"

"Five," he answered and paused. "Anything else?"

"Nope, that's it."

Harry grabbed the tray and walked off with it. Tom seemed to prod the boy into to asking him more questions. Unsuccessful at avoiding the young wizard, he had to ask him random ones. Now, he knows that his favorite professor was Slughorn. He enjoys reading books and a few other trivial things. However, their conversation did solidify Harry's view towards him. Tom possessed a strong ambition. So much so that he became prefect at just his fifth year and was already doing sixth year classes. He also showed a lot of pride in his accomplishments. And, he was cunning enough to manipulate him into him practically spending the whole day with him. In other words, he was the perfect Slytherin.

They finally parted after giving the Hogwarts' house elves the dishes. Harry went back to his bed to clean up the mess he made in his trunk. Afterwards, he grabbed the notebook Dippet gave him and began writing about everything that had happened. Although he should avoid keeping any records, he decided that with how complicated the timeline was, writing would probably keep him sane. And by having some sort of record of everything that was happening and what had happened in his timeline, it would make it much easier to plan – something he was not very good about. As such, he started with the beginning of his first year with _his_ timeline.

About halfway through his writing, it had turned dark in the room. He looked outside the window next to his table and saw that the sun was setting. Being caught up in the details, he had only written up until first met Sirius. Still, he made good progress. Having gone back in time before with Hermione, he knew the risk of time traveling as time was something that should not be travailed with. So, it was a blessing that time was even allowing him to change the past ever so slightly. However, this phenomenon does not mean that one wrong move could set a worse future. More than likely, this was his only chance as well. Writing everything that he could remember, it would help him make sure to make only the best choices.

Harry used a concealing charm to hide the information written. Although students could simply reverse it with a revealing charm, it will buy him some time before finding a way to keep it from prying eyes. An idea did form on how to do so when he talked about the Weasley twins in his notebook. He remembered how they had given him the Marauder's Map and how it could only be open with a passcode. If he could only figure out how to do the same with his notebook, it would be nearly impossible for anyone to open it. He would still have the concealment charm intact as another barrier, though.

He took a deep breath in and closed it. Harry decided to place the notebook in the luggage's hidden pocket that he found when he was unpacking. Tucking it back under his bed, he made his way downstairs to gather with the rest of his housemates. He had hardly talked to any of them since his first meal. When he made it to the Slytherin table, he noticed how some of them glared at him. Confused, he sat by the two people he remembered from his first day – aside from Tom and Avery, who were nowhere to be seen.

"Hi Elanna, Glinda," he greeted the two. Glinda sheepishly looked up and nodded her head. Elanna, on the other hand, did not hide her irritation at the boy.

"Piss off, Potter," she hissed and shoved a spoonful of mashed potato in her mouth.

Harry was taken back at the sudden hostility. "Excuse me?"

"Ye' think that just 'cause Tom had taken pity on ye' that yer all high 'nd mighty now that ye' can galivant around?"

"I-I'm not sure what you mean…"

Elanna looked like she was about to explode, but Glinda interrupted. "Several students saw you and Tom walk around with a tray of sandwiches and tea. I-It's just, students aren't allowed to do that except him and his friends."

"So, you think I'm his friend?" he looked at Elanna. The brunette girl rolled her eyes. "As flattering at how that sounds to others, I don't think we're even close to being friends. We just happened to both miss lunch, and he offered food. I don't suppose you enjoy starving."

Glinda's blue eyes sparkled once more and shook her friend's shoulder. "Hear that? I told it wasn't like that! Now, apologize."

"All right, 'm sorry, Harry. I may have jumped into conclusions there," she pouted.

"It's fine, and not bad of an apology for a Slytherin," he chuckled.

"I can't take pride in myself if I don't face my mistakes head on," she smirked.

Unlike the meal he had with Tom, this was the complete opposite. It was filled with conversations ranging from Glinda's odd sleeping habits to the latest wizarding trend. Though it was Elanna that kept the conversation going, Harry could not help but be pulled in. He even began to open a bit more. He talked about Ron and Hermione a bit but left out their names. Of course, he left out any grim information and Hermione not being a pureblood as well. Still, this moment made him forget about the pain of leaving behind his friends. Instead, he found himself thinking that he was just off on a short journey.

* * *

Tom was indeed frustrated earlier today that he was not able to get what he wanted, but that was all taken care of. Other than that minor incident, he did find the rest of the day to be informative. He noticed how Harry would look at him, thinking that he was unaware of his gaze. The boy was also cleaver in his own way, particularly through his choice of words as it could be considered cunning. Not that he would admit, but it could even rival himself as he was careful of his own word choice. He could not decide, though, if the first year was still befitting the Slytherin house. His actions seemed to be opposite of his words. When they entered the kitchen, he noticed how Harry was daring to help out a few of the Hogwarts house elves whilst knowing that he was clearly seen by him. A very Gryffindor move it was.

"Tom?" a voiced called him out of his thoughts.

"I'm listening, Avery," he replied.

"Of course," he bowed his head.

"And you made you sure that no one saw you?"

"Yes."

"Good," he nodded his head. "What about the newcomer? I assume that you managed to get him to join us?"

"Certainly," Avery grinned. "In fact, he immediately agreed when he saw the sweets that were inside the pouch saying that they were his favourites."

"I see…" Tom hummed. He stood up from his chair and eyed at the rest of the group members. "That needs to be fixed before he's allowed to join our meetings. We can't have anyone be that easily… moved."

They all nodded their heads in agreement and the meeting was dismissed. When they left the room, it had turned dark. Making their way to the Great Hall to dine, he immediately spotted the boy sitting with two other students. Elanna and Glinda at the end of the table. Two second years. Not a threat, but he felt a twitch creep when he saw the first-year boy laugh along.

* * *

Harry tilted his body forward and clasped his stomach. It hurts from laughing.

"That's supposed to be a secret, Elanna!" Glinda's face blushed.

"'nd who would Harry tell? Nearly everyone in the house hates him. Oh!" Elanna clasped her mouth. "'m sorry, Harry! I didn't mean that."

Harry took a deep breath to calm himself. "It may be blunt for me to say, but I don't care what they think."

"Very Gryffindor of you," Elanna smirked. Glinda smacked her arm. "'m just jokin, but not really."

"Elanna!" Glinda warned.

"'m not sayin' it as a bad thing, Glinda!" she smacked her shoulders. "I say this as a Slytherin heart, soul, 'nd mind. I hate Gryffindors. They're stuck up. They think that just 'cause Headmaster Dippet was a Gryffindor they could get away with anythin'. I mean before you came there was this kid 'nd –"

"Elanna…" Harry and Glinda uttered at the same time.

"Right, where was I? Oh yes, Gryffindors. A bunch of jocks but lookin' at the traits alone they're not bad. They can even complement our traits."

"Really?" Glinda sounded curious. "How so?"

Harry curiosity peaked too but hid it. This was his first time hearing a Slytherin not bad mouthing about his house that he genuinely wanted to know her thoughts. However, their conversation was interrupted when their prefect came into view.

"Elanna, Glinda, good evening," Tom smiled at them. The two second years blushed and returned with an embarrassed greeting. "Harry."

"Riddle," he returned. "Oh, sorry. I didn't see you there Avery. Hello."

"That's all right," he reassured but his voice spoke without a hint of humbleness. "Hello."

"May sit here?" Tom asked.

"'f'course!" Elanna quickly scooted to her left to leave space. Glinda had to scoot as well, but it left enough room for the two fifth years to sit down. The other two students that were with them sat on either opposite side of Harry, making him a bit uncomfortable.

"Ah, it seems introductions are needed," Tom pointed at the two other Slytherins beside him. "Well, go on."

"Lestrange," the boy to his right stuck out his hand. He shook it, and it felt cool to the touch.

"Nott! Please you meet you, Harry!" the boy to his left shook his hand, which was rather warm in comparison to the other young wizard.

"Did Rosier like the candy?" Harry asked, which raised several eyebrows from the male wizards.

"He did," Avery answered. "He couldn't come tonight, but he said thank you."

From then on, the conversation was much more sparse. Elanna tried to keep it at a high momentum and light, but she eventually shut her mouth. When the silence became too long, though to Harry it only felt like seconds, she excused herself to bed. Glinda followed her, leaving Harry alone with the dark lord and his Death Eaters. However, the silence was kept between them, which he was thankful for. He had no idea how to carry on a conversation with so much people unless it was him trying to lead them into something – and by something, it typically broke the rules or lead them to their death.

The air around the Death Eaters, though, was not what he had expected of them. He remembered when he first saw them. Despite it only being a memory, he could still feel the menacing aura that seeped through their young bodies. Right now, though, it was more of an awkwardness, and a slight irritation from the other Slytherin students mingled in with it. Harry's eyes wondered and saw the other student's look. Some he had a hard time figuring out due to his glasses being slightly cracked. The ones that he could see had a scornful face. Whether it was out of envy or something else, he had no clue.

* * *

Harry had just finished his meal and was about to part his way, until Nott decided it was the best to ask a question in one breath. "So, Harry, I know that it's only your first full day at Hogwarts and it's the weekend, so you probably don't know much, but do you have any plans taking on extracurriculars?"

"Maybe?" he did think about it briefly. The only extracurricular that he did during his time was Quidditch, so maybe he could join. However, if did join it would mean he would have to play as a Slytherin and go against his house. His eyes adjusted back to Nott who was waiting for him to respond. "What are the options?"

"There used to be quite a few, but with the whole Grindelwald thing going on, many professors who were supervising the activities had to stop. So –"

"Nott," Avery's eyes glared at the young wizard. "I don't think Harry needs to be exposed of that. He's just a first year."

"Right, sorry about that," Nott apologized.

Harry almost let out a snort. Based on the timeline, the Death Eaters – and dare he say, Tom Riddle himself – are the most innocent ones at the table. They had never killed anyone or had anyone die by their hands yet. And, if everything goes right, no one had to. Nevertheless, it was a detail in which he would keep a secret, so he bit his tongue.

"If you want, we can help you," Tom suggested. This brought a surprised look from the other fifth years.

"That's okay, I think I already know which one I'm joining," Harry responded.

"Which one?" Lestrange inquired.

"Quidditch."

"Such a violent game, but I do see how it could benefit the house," Lestrange nodded. "Though, I think tryouts have already occurred."

"O-oh," Harry slumped.

"What position would you have tried out for?" Tom propped his arm on the table and leaned his chin on top of his fisted hand.

"Last I played, I was a Seeker…"

"I did overhear that the current one is terrible," Nott noted. His head was facing Tom and seemed to be cautious before he proposed a suggestion. "I-I can ask this year's captain about giving you a chance."

"That wouldn't be fair," Harry pointed out.

"Ah, but I think that it would," Tom contradicted. He stood up from the table. "It's only fair that all students who want to join gets a chance to show off their skills. If the poor boy who's the so-called Seeker has any skills, he shouldn't be afraid of a little competition. And, if he has the pride of a Slytherin, he should take it as an opportunity to show his skills. It's a win-win, don't you think?"

All of his followers stood up and the two next to Harry began to make their way to the prefect's side. Harry stood up as well. It prompted the tall, raven haired wizard to smirk. Without realizing it until it was too late, he just fell into the young wizard's trap.

"I suppose so," Harry tried to calmly agree, but his heart was racing. How could he have let Tom's cunning way play along so coolly?

"See to it that it gets done, Nott," he ordered. The curly, brunette boy nodded his head in acknowledgement. "Well, I think I'm going to retire. You, Harry?"

"I'll be there soon."

"Don't stay up for too long. My shift doesn't start until late into the night. I can't help you 'till then," Tom reminded him of last night's incident.

"Won't happen twice, Riddle."

With that, the group of fifth years parted. They took the left path to reach the Slytherin Dungeon, whilst Harry took the right. He had no where in particular to go, but, somehow, he made it to the stained window where him and Tom ate lunch together. He sat on the ledge again and contemplated.

He was well aware of how sly the young wizard was, but he could only prepare himself so much to try and avoid falling for his tricks. Nevertheless, he did. He replayed the scene in his head, but he could not figure out how Tom got him to stand up. One would think that it would be norm to stand up at that moment, but the raven smirked. Something had gone his way. To _what_ it was, Harry had but only a vague clue. As such, he mentally prepared himself to be asked questions once he woke up tomorrow morning.

* * *

**A/N: **For those who have not watched the Fantastic Beast films, don't fret! Grindelwald will play a role in this fiction, but not to the point of actually shaping the characters so much that you have to watch the films. Feel free to watch the films though!

Also, there's not much background to the first Death Eaters – or not much that I can remember. So, I'm relying on the Harry Potter wiki and Pottermore. I will also be taking a bit more liberty to shape their characteristics because of that. Still, I will try to keep them in character as much as possible but remember that their fifth year is BEFORE everything turned for the worst. If I were to place their personalities in the colour scheme, they would be in dark shade of gray. Not yet black but they're getting there.

Side note, I hope you liked my OCs. It was fun to write their interaction with Harry!

If you could, please a review as well. That would be much appreciated!


	6. Chapter 6: Not So Subtle

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter. All characters in the series are rightfully owned by J.K. Rowling. All original characters and plot changes that are made in the story are written by me (JayPolar).

**PLEASE READ AUTHOR'S NOTE!**

**A/N: **Thank you all for being patient with me and my updates! Also, thank you for the new follows and favourites! As for your comment, Mariyah, it's all right that your review was "late." Any review no matter how late is welcomed! And since I just saw your new review, thank you again! :)

Also, there has been an updated for chapters one and three. A new reviewer by the name DarkDreamer1982 commented that Hagrid was going to school the same year as Tom. Thank you for pointing that out! I was waiting for someone to notice that detail. I looked back on those two chapters and noticed where the confusion probably took place. I fixed it up the interactions between Harry and Hagrid bit right away because I don't want any further confusion. So, please re-read those parts everyone! The whole Hagrid situation will be addressed in either the next chapter or a later one. However, thank you for your comment! Additionally, I wrote down that the year was 1941 instead of 1940. It's a small change, nothing too dramatic. However, if I had kept it as 1941 and not 1940, the timeline would have been totally thrown off. And yes, I have made a timeline for this story – took a long time too!

Quick and final note, the scheduling for classes are based on UK education. So, it means that classes are different every day. If you don't understand what I mean, search for a timetable and it should explain it – or just go with the flow of the story. With that, I'm taking much liberty here and making up their schedule. And, as I have no time to do a thorough research on this, please forgive me if I make a mistake.

**Warning! **Language

* * *

-Chapter 6: Not So Subtle-

Harry woke up with a pillow thrown at his face. He rolled over to his stomach and buried his face in his pillow. He had prepared himself Saturday to answer any questions the following day, but Tom and his friends were nowhere to be found the whole day. He even stayed up a bit longer last night to see if he could catch them before he went to sleep. However, none of them showed up, which was precisely why he just wants to be left alone right now.

Alas, it was all good things typically comes to an end rather quickly for the Potter boy. Someone threatened to suffocate him with a pillow and he immediately shot up. A soft chuckle rang in the air.

"Come on, Harry," a hand with his glasses came into his view. He grabbed it and saw that voice came from Tom. "Missing breakfast on your first is not good."

"So, you got me up at seven in the morning?" he yawned. "Breakfast isn't until later."

"Better to be early. And…" the prefect grabbed his pocket watch. "You were close. I woke you up at six forty, but you were a heavy sleeper and didn't hear me. I threw a pillow at you at six fifty, but you officially woke up at six fifty-five. See?"

Tom showed him the watch to which Harry rolled his eyes and groaned. How was he able to wake up that early after a long night? Maybe all of Voldemort's perfect timing were just because he trained himself to be like a clock.

* * *

When they reached the Great Hall, there were only a handful of students sitting. Most of them were Ravenclaw, but several were Hufflepuffs. Gryffindors were no where in sight. They were the only two Slytherins up. Awkwardly, they sat on the polar end of Slytherin table, avoiding the two that occupied the other side. Harry, himself, rested his butt on the opposite side of Tom and the two silently waited. He could tell that there were several eyes watching him, but he ignored them by putting his head on the table.

"Still sleepy?" Tom asked. Harry looked up from his folded arms and glared. "You'll thank me later. Trust me."

Harry wondered what the young wizard meant, but his sleepiness got the better of him. What seemed like a few seconds, he felt a nudge go against his foot. He pried his eyes open for the second time and saw the Hogwarts house elves were bringing food to the table. Without even having to glance around, he saw that the table was already packed with students. The boy looked up and met Tom's eyes who only smirked. Why were so many students up this early just to eat breakfast?

"It's because of the war," Tom commented.

Nott, who was sitting next to him, continued to explain. "Everyone's just a scared. War affects the muggles and wizards the same way."

"You're not talking about Grindelwald, are you?" Harry grabbed a spoon full of mashed potato that had just been served by the Hogwarts house elves and placed it on his plate.

"You're quick to catch on, Potter," someone patted his back. The new Slytherin face sat adjacent to Nott. "The name's Rosier. Thanks for candy! How'd you know they were my favourite?"

"Umm… you're welcome," he replied. "And, I didn't. I just grabbed random ones."

"I see. And yes, it's the war with the muggles," Rosier talked with a mouthful of bread. "It damped everyone's mood, so Dippet decided that all students must have breakfast together to bring back Hogwarts' morale up or something. Honestly, I think it's simply because they're scared that Grindelwald might come here."

Harry nodded his head in agreement to both his statement. For one, if his memory was correct, Grindelwald's effect has already begun spreading beyond the States at this point in time. However, he had no idea when the wizard was going to be defeated. Not that stopping the dark wizard mattered or was part of his plan, but it does not mean that his ideas planted the evil in the hearts of many. If he could somehow push Grindelwald's death forward, it would help with reversing the damage. It might be even easier for him in the future.

For now, simply having everyone together, as Dippited intented, does help with going through rough times. He remembered the first meal he had at Hogwarts. It was right after he was sorted to Gryffindor. Although he hardly knew anyone in the table, he felt right at home. It felt like all of his worries had disappeared. When he had trouble with anything, his friends would be there, and they would all surround him with love. As he looked around, he could tell that it was working. Everyone's mood was bright and chirpy even early in the morning.

Conversation filled the air, though much less at the Slytherin table. Luckily, Nott had told him that he managed to talk to the captain of the Slytherin team for Quidditch to do a tryout. Harry lets out a sigh of relief that he had no idea he was holding in. He should be mortified at the thought of playing for the opposing house. Yet, his excitement overwhelmed the thought. By participating in Quidditch, it was at least one part of this life that was similar and constant to that of his life in the future. The topic also became the centre of the conversation, easing the awkwardness away from earlier.

Harry was caught up in defending that Quidditch as an amazing sport that he forgot to eat his fill. Tom had remained quiet the whole time, only speaking whenever spoken to or he was asked of his opinion. The young wizard also made no effort to speak his mind about how he believed the game to be a foolish. Still, there was something in the way the boy spoke about the thrill of it all. The last time Tom did feel a sense of thrill was when he found a dark and hidden secret of the school. In hindsight, it was an obvious secret that Hogwarts had kept. However, no one came close to uncovering more as him. He could feel that at how close he was at figuring out how to open the Chamber of Secrets. For now, though, he had a different priority in mind.

"Harry, we should probably get going," Tom suggested.

"We have time, Riddle," he ignored the raven-haired wizard and returned to arguing about Quidditch with Nott and Rosier.

"You don't since you haven't visited your classrooms yesterday," Tom made him recall.

"And how would you know that?" he prodded. Tom simply tilted his head ever so slightly and arched an eyebrow. As if on cue, Harry wheezed out an exasperated sigh. "You know, others need to learn that just because you're a prefect doesn't mean they have to tell you everything."

Avery looked a bit gobsmacked at the forwardness of the boy. "And you need to learn a bit of respect for those with authority, Potter."

The boy was hardly taken back and was prepared with a not so subtle argument. However, Tom raised his hand to intervene and settled his blonde wizard friend. "Settle down, Avery. There's no need to cause a commotion first thing in the morning. And, Harry's right. Partially."

This time, the boy was taken back. Tom continued before he could ask further. "I didn't just ask simply to exercise my power, you know. I know that I have no authority over _your_ actions. Besides, I asked those girls, Elanna and Glinda. It should have been my job to show you around, but I assumed you were aware that I was gone. So, I had hoped that they were able to fill in my space, turns out they hadn't. That's how I found out."

Harry felt a bit of heat rush to the back of his neck. "Sorry."

"That's all right," Tom grinned. "Shall we?"

He nodded his head and they made their way to his first classroom – the Herbology room. No one was there yet, and they had to check out his other classrooms. So, they stood by the door. Then, they made their way through the rest of his classroom and to his final classroom – the Transfiguration room. On their way there and throughout the mini tour, Harry kept his mouth shut. He was a bit embarrassed at what happened. Nonetheless, his opinion did not change. He could tell that Tom had already known that he held a lot of power in Hogwarts. This power over people was one of the traits that Voldemort possessed. He was trying to keep it from going over the young wizard's head by making sure he does not control him or others. However, it was proving to be more difficult than he thought. Still, he did not want the raven-haired wizard to think that he had no respect for him. It could ruin his chances.

Harry stopped his tracks and Tom's footsteps immediately halted. He could hardly look up at the young wizard's face but decided otherwise. "Riddle, I am sorry about what happened earlier."

"It's all r –"

"No, it's not all right," he interrupted. "Ah, that didn't make my case any better. Sorry. I-I just sometimes get my feelings get the better of me."

"You're not wrong there, but I wouldn't say it like that," Tom stated. "I think it was because you wanted to be honest."

"True, but I don't think that I did it the right way…"

"Right, wrong, doesn't matter to me. I want people who are close to me honest," Tom folded his arms. "Can I trust you?"

Harry chuckled, though it might be because the nerves were kicking in. "I don't think we're still close friends. He looked up firmly at the young wizard. "But you can trust me to always be honest."

"I'll hold you accountable for that, Harry," Tom nodded in acknowledgement.

Harry had obviously lied before. However, most, or if not all, of his lies were meant to protect others. The case right now was the same. He was lying to protect hundreds of people that were going to die in the future, not just his own parents. If he were to tell Tom anything, it would ruin everything. Even Dippet and Dumbledore did not want to know anything because of how powerful his knowledge was. Still, it did not assuage the light quenching feeling in the boy's stomach when they parted.

* * *

Herbology class was similar to what he had experience the first time around, though no one fainted on this round. Since the class was joined with Gryffindor, it was a bit awkward for Harry at first. He initiated a conversation with a Gryffindor boy next to him. It prompted quick side glances from several of the students. The boy was shocked and even avoided him at first, but because of Harry's newfound tenacity that he built over the years, the Gryffindor gave up and started having small side conversations with him. Eventually, they were caught by Professor Beery. Thankfully, he was lenient and only gave them a warning. Harry and the boy, who he now knows as Eric Monty, still continued to discreetly converse until the end of class.

"Make sure you have the steps memorized by next class. I don't want to repeat myself," Professor Berry reminded them. The whole class collectively said yes and left the classroom.

"I can't believe that you're trying out for Quidditch," Eric said sounding flabbergasted the second they stepped out.

"Why?" Harry asked. "Do I not look like the type?"

"Well, you most certainly aren't a Beater," Eric chuckled.

"Who says I'm trying to be that?"

"Isn't that the only opening spot left for Slytherin?" Eric scrunched his eyebrows together and seemed to be trying to recall the information. Harry arched his eyebrow. "I'm… on the team."

Harry grinned. "Sound like I'm going to have to make sure that I pass the tryout for the Seeker position then."

"Seeker?" he repeated. The Slytherin boy nodded.

"Who's going to be a Seeker?" a different voice popped in their conversation. An individual wearing Gryffindor robes walked closer to them. "Look at that! Talking to a snake are you now, Eric?"

Harry looked like he was about to fume, which was new to him considering he had only been recently placed in the house not too long ago. Eric nudge the student beside him. "Oi, don't say that, Winston. Harry's decent for Slytherin."

"Decent, Monty?" he crossed his arms. "I helped you with the Mandrake Root situation."

Winston smirked. "You tried to stick your finger in its mouth, didn't you?"

"I-I did not!"

Winston patted Harry's back. "Thanks for looking out for my little brother, Potter. I told him to not do it, but I guess it's in the Gryffindor blood or something. Anyways, thought that because the bastard's been close to you that he rubbed off on you. Guess not."

"Tom," Eric clarified. "And, he's not so bad."

"That's because you haven't met him, you idiot," Winston smacked his brother's head. Harry groaned in agreement. "Looks like you found yourself a _good_ friend, little brother. And first day of class too! New record for you."

"All right, all right, no need to announce that to the world," Eric grumbled. Winston rubbed his head and waved at them as he left for his next class. The two resumed their walk to their class. However, Eric had to take a different path halfway to get to his Charms class whist Harry had to go to Potions with the Hufflepuffs.

After classes were over, he decided to hit the library. He did not plan on going there, but after his Xylomancy class, he had to find out more about the topic. Apparently, in class, they will be taught about diving the past, present, and future. Although they have only learned what the class was going to be about and had not actually done anything, he needed to find out more. More importantly, it would do him well to learn more about it as quickly as possible. He could use it to make sure the timeline was not affected negatively.

As he paced up and down, side to side down the aisle of books, he finally stumbled on a few books on the topic. He grabbed them all but focused first on the book that he bought for the class. Preoccupied with reading, he failed to notice someone had sat in front of him until he heard soft thud of a book closing. He looked up from his book and saw it was nonother than Tom.

"Hello Harry," the young wizard greeted him.

"Hello Riddle," he returned.

Tom glanced at the book that he was holding. "Xylomancy by Selina Sapworth? Don't you have that class only once a week?"

"I've never learned about this class before, so I thought I should read…" he eyed the half dozen book pilled beside him. "A bit more on it."

"Sound like you're going to have quite a long night," Tom snorted. "You know, the last time the class was taught was before I even became a first year. Sadly, it's only available for first years, so I couldn't get in. Who's teaching?"

"Professor Lidonbour."

Tom hummed. "It seems that I've neglected to know a professor who's been teaching an interesting topic."

"She only started this year, so you're fine. Though, I wouldn't waste your time. She's kind of a bit _bizarre_," Harry emphasized. He knew that by simply talking about the topic it would peak Tom's interest. Xylomancy was about diving the past, present, _and_ future. If the young dark wizard learned to deduce what occurs in the future, it would mean trouble – or more trouble that he could even imagine.

"But she seemed to have quickly gathered your full interest almost as quickly as I did."

"Don't flatter yourself too much, Riddle. It makes you look like you enjoy the attention."

Tom pressed his elbows on the table and leaned forward. "If it comes from the right person, then yes. I most certainly do enjoy having their full attention."

Harry's eyes almost bulged out, but he kept him composure. He cleared his throat and opened a random page. "Well, I guess you better find someone else then. I have to finish reading at least this chapter and get started on the rest of my assignments."

"All right, then," Tom stood up and grabbed that book he was reading.

He focused his eyes on his reading and replied, "Yes, see you at dinner."

He saw Tom smirked before he parted. Harry had not mean to say that. He wanted – no, he _was_ about to bang his head on the table but opted not to. Still, maybe it would fix his stupidity and teach him to pay attention.

* * *

After Harry, Tom, and Tom's circle ate dinner, they parted in different paths. Avery, Rosier, and Lestrange went to the library. Nott had a Quidditch meeting. He told Harry that the meeting was only going to be about the possibility of him joining, so he did not need to be there. The boy was thankful because he had other things that he needed to do. Particularly, he had to write about what he learned on his, now called, journal.

However, Tom had pressed himself closer than to Harry's comfort zone that he was not able to write. Managing to escape the young wizard, he changed to his pajama in the Slytherin washroom. When he left, he bumped into a fellow housemate.

"Potter," he hissed.

"Umm…"

The Slytherin student nudged his right shoulder. With him being transformed back into his smaller, underfed frame, the action felt a lot harder than it was intended. "Remember that Riddle's not going to be with you all the time."

"And why would he need to be?" he straightened his back. "It's not like he's my family or anything."

"That right, he isn't," the brown-haired boy stepped closer and peered down at him. "So, he's not going to get upset or do anything if something were to happen to you."

If it were any other Slytherin student, they would probably use some sort of manipulation to get their way of the situation, but Harry still had Gryffindor in him. "And is that supposed to be a threat?"

"No, it isn't," he corrected. "I'm a man of action, Potter. Threatening someone is a sign of fear. It means you have no guts at doing what needs to be done. I know a few in house that are cowardly enough to do just that to you."

"So, you're warning me?"

"Warning, threatening, think of it to what you like. I just don't want whatever your causing to end up as a mess. So, you better change your act."

"Or you will?"

The young wizard smirked. Harry knew that the wizard in front of him was threatening him, even if he said that he was not. However, he hardly felt fear in his words. The Slytherin bumped the boy's shoulder and walked in the washroom.

When he returned to the room, Nott was already on his bed talking to another student. The other three were still apparently at the library because Rosier was having trouble with one of his assignments. Tom was reading a book with no title on it. Harry sat on the edge of his bed.

"What's that?" he asked.

He closed the book and placed it on his lap. Tom leaned his head back to the backboard of his bed and shuts his eyes. He seemed… tired. "It's nothing. I'm doing this research, and it's a bit complicated."

"An assignment? Complicated?" Harry snorted. "I didn't think that complicated was in your dictionary."

"Oh, it's _definitely_ on my dictionary," Tom insisted. "But I don't think you'd enjoy me talking about my assignment. It's a lot of sixth year lessons that you haven't learned yet."

"You're taking sixth year classes, already?" he exhaled a short and quick breath. "No wonder it's complicated." Harry thought to himself on how he could hardly keep up with his fifth-year classes during his time. If he was to try do what Tom and Hermione were doing, he would be doomed to repeat another year.

"I suppose…"

"_I suppose_," he mimicked. "If you're exhausted, just take a break. It's also not good for you to be super stressed. I know that from experience."

"You do?"

"Not exactly. I've had to deal with a different kind of stress. But I've had more-or-less second had experience, if you will," he explained. "I had… a friend who was much smarter than me. He showed me his notes and it was full of information on how to do practically everything to perfection."

"Sounds like he was brilliant," Tom was facing him looking a bit less stressed and intrigued.

"He was," he repeated. "It didn't even take him a long time to figure the best and quickest way to do whatever it is that needs to be done. He taught me to work smart, not hard. Still, he helped me realize something."

"What?"

"Relying only yourself to figure those things out is not worth it," Harry laid his back down on the bed and propped his arms under his head. "He kind of became self-reliant on everything. Not trusting on anyone with any information unless he could confirm it. It took a toll on him…"

Tom almost hesitated to ask. This was the most information Harry had given him about his past, but it was not something about himself. Rather, it was about some random boy that he had no idea of. He needed to get more information before he could make his final decision.

Harry chuckled to himself. "Look me, talking about the past. Sorry about that!"

"Don't worry," he assured him. There was short pause. "Do you want to know?"

Harry turned his head to the young wizard. "About?"

"What I was reading?"

"Sure," he smiled.

"I suppose I should warn you," Tom stood up and resting himself beside Harry, who was now sitting up. "It's about my family."

* * *

**A/N: **Okay, I'm cruel. I'm sorry for leaving you with a cliffhanger there! I had to stop somewhere. Still, the chapter is one of the longest one I've written. Hurrah!

More are being revealed, and more are going to be revealed. Also, remember that this is Tom Marvolo Riddle that we're talking about. He is cunning and smart wizard. Still, little by little, you will get to see why Tom act the way he does to our little Harry. It _is_ only the first day of school. *evil laughter*

Adventures (maybe) are coming soon!

Hope you all enjoy the chapter! Let me know what you all think. :D


	7. Chapter 7: Trust

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter. All characters in the series are rightfully owned by J.K. Rowling. All original characters and plot changes that are made in the story are written by me (JayPolar).

**PLEASE READ BOTH AUTHOR'S NOTE! [UPDATED A/N: 5 June 2019]**

**A/N: **First of all, there is a scene in the story that takes from the Prisoner of Azkaban. All credits for go to J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., Heyday Films, and 1492 Pictures for the dialogues used.

Now, I would like to apologize that the update took a while. If I'm being honest, I had a hard time starting the chapter because this is where arc one of the story starts to pace uphill. And yes, I said it. ARC ONE. I don't know exactly how many there will be or how long they will be. In any case, I hit a bit of a stumble. However, thank you to everyone that followed and favourited my story! I did not expect such an overwhelmingly positive feedback. It kept me from being defeated. Thank you to geekymom, CuddlyMakani, Mariyah, and DarkDreamer1982 for your lovely comments. Also, DarkDreamer1982 pointed out a complaint/confusion. I have addressed the issue and explained further on the matter in the previous chapter via the author's note. So, **for those who already read chapter six but have not read the updated author's note, please read that again. Then, come back to this chapter afterwards.**

With arc one starting to pick up its pace, I want to readdress the relationship between Tom and Harry one last time as it's a key driving point of the story. For the past few days, I've been reading mythologies, particularly Achilles's journey. If you know about his story and relationship with Patroclus, then it's best to look at the relationship between Tom and Harry in that light.

If you have not heard or know about the relationship between Achilles and Patroclus, it's a bit hard to explain but I'll try my best. Whilst Homer does show that there is romantic relationship between the two figuratively, he does not physically express it. Historians to this day still have debates on whether it's romance or not. Whatever their relationship is, it can be said for certain that they care for each other deeply. It's not passion that they seek from each other, but something beyond the grasps of even the character's own understanding. All they could hope for each other was to live for another day together.

With that being said, I want my story to be understood that way. The focus is not on the romance, rather it's simply a story of two individuals and their journey. What that journey is, of course, I'll keep it a secret. I do have my reasons for making this decision, though in no particular order. (1) The starting age of the two (Harry is 12 and Tom is 15) is too young for me to be writing a romance story, particularly Harry. Harry is technically older than Tom, but I do not want to trouble myself or readers who would find it uncomfortable. (2) Moreover, because of the events that are happening, it just does not make sense that romance is at the centre of their thoughts. (3) Lastly, think carefully of Tom's past. I will not say further on this matter because it will be addressed in the story itself. So, if you are looking for _just_ a romantic story between the two of them, this is **not** your story.

Finally, I have changed the rating to M. I only changed it because I re-read the description for the T rating. WWII era alone should have probably been obvious to me that it should be rated M, so my bad! *slaps forehead* However, it is only rated M because of violence and language. I still will warn you each chapter if there are any scenes where they play out. Though, it should come as a given that violence will be taken place

**To the new reviewer, Enes, thank you! **I will try to update this week to make up for last week.

**To Mariyah**: I just updated the author's note. Thank you, as always, for your support! I was and am still kind of nervous as how others would take the path that I'm going. Though, to ease your mind, I have addressed a clearer path of how the relationship between the two will be like in the author's note. And, huh… that's weird. I wasn't on FanFiction at all yesterday because I was painting, but hopefully it's fixed for you soon!

* * *

-Chapter 7: Trust-

Harry was dumbfounded for a moment.

"But I can't talk about it right now," Tom noted and took a quick glance to his side. He noticed how the room noise level decreased.

"Of course," he nodded, acknowledging Tom's subtle gesture.

"Meet me in the library tomorrow after class. Same spot."

The young wizard returned to his bed and the room's noise level simmered down to a whispering level. Soon, only a light snore from one of the Slytherin students could be heard. However, Harry's mind was cluttered with his own voice overlapping each other. He thought about all the things he does know about Tom's past. From what can recall, he was also an orphan and was powerful even at a young age. Driven by his madness of death hanging over him, and among several other factors, the promising young wizard fell into darkness. Eventually, it led to the dark wizard that he now knows as Lord Voldemort.

He could hardly remember the little details, but another thought intercepted. Who was that the boy he met by the washroom? The mysterious boy sounded like he was threatening him, but he felt no malice emitting from their brief conversation. Likely he would stumble on the boy again since they were in the same house, Harry decided it was best to try and at least find out the student's name.

He rolled his body to the right and tried to not think about everything all at once. Instead, he focused on the few happy memories that he does have. As those dreams finally manifested in his head, his body began to relax. He them take over his mind. He remembered the first time he met his best friends. Looking back, it was probably one of the most awkward moment of their relationship. Both Ron and Hermione already knew who he was and a bit of his past. Still, it helped made the moment memorable for them. He still had yet to thank Neville for losing his toad that Harry and Ron met Hermione.

As Harry's memories shifted from one memory to the another, he had long forgotten the tension of the situation he was in. So, when he woke up the following morning by a pillow thrown at him, he yelled instinctively.

"Ron!"

Immediately, he shot up and cleared his throat. There were a few eyes that landed on him, but most of them were snickers. Harry and the student that threw the pillow, who he believed to be named Conrad, apologized to each other. Harry gathered his robes and was about to head downstairs to the washroom to change, but all memories of last night came rushing in. He turned around and changed into his robes along with the other students. They all proceeded to go to the Great Hall for breakfast until the first hour of class was drawing near.

Before arriving for his Defense Against the Dark Arts class, he stumbled on a familiar figure.

"Hagrid!"

"Harry!" the half giant came forward and gave the boy a firm hug. "How was yer first day of classes?"

"Good! How was yours?"

"I suppose second year's a wee bit harder than first-year classes," he answered. "But I wasn't able to make it to my last one. I had an excuse! Master Ogg had told Headmaster Dippet that I could help him with… well, 'm not supposed to tell."

"It's okay, I don't have anyone to tell anyway."

Hagrid cuffed his hand and whispered in his ear. "A baby Hippogriff."

Harry's eyes widened with surprise. Both of them had a brief conversation about the condition of the creature. The half giant couldn't go into much details but explained that it was found during one of Ogg's rounds. And when they tried to track the mother, the trail only led them to a dead body.

"I'm sorry about that," Harry apologized.

"Oh, don't be," Hagrid assured him with a pat on his back. "It's not yer fault. Well, I should get goin'. Class is about to start. See ye, Harry!"

At that, Harry made his way to his Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. When he arrived, most of the students were already there. Hoping that Eric was in the same hour as him, he looked around. Thankfully, the boy was. Not long after he spotted Eric and stood beside him, Professor Merrythought arrived and began the lesson.

"Good morning class," Professor Merrythought greeted.

"Good morning, professor," they collectively greeted in return. Merrythought slowly paced herself to the front of the class as everyone eyes followed her. She was rather thin woman, but her presence showed that she more than a frail woman. In fact, it made all the students stand up straight. Harry particularly felt authority yet warmth from the woman, almost like Professor McGonagall.

When she reached the wardrobe, she tapped it twice. Thumping and thrashing erupted.

"Would anyone like to guess to what's inside?" she asked the class.

"Boggarts, ma'am," a student guessed.

"Very good, Ms. Tully. Now, can anybody tell me what a boggart _looks_ like?"

There was silence until Harry remembered what Hermione said and broke the awkward silence. "No one knows. Boggarts are shapeshifters. They take the shape of whatever particular person fears the most. That's what makes them so –"

"Terrifying, yes," Professor Merrythought continued. "Luckily, a very simple charm exists to repel a boggart. Let's practice it now."

Students shifted their robes to grab their wands, but Professor Merrythought shot her hand up. "Now, _without_ wands, please. After me, _riddikulus_."

"_Riddkulus_," they all repeated.

"Very good. A little louder," she encouraged them. "Very clear. Listen. _Riddikulus_!"

"_Riddikulus_!"

"Very good! Well, so much for the easy part. See, the incantation alone is not enough. What really finishes a boggart is laughter. You need to force it to assume a shape you find truly amusing. Let me explain. Mr. Derkhart, will you join me, please?"

On the surface, the Slytherin boy was oozing confidence. It almost fooled Harry until he saw the boy's shaking hands was quickly hidden away under the sleeves of his robe.

"Now, dear boy, what frightens you the most?"

"Nothing."

Professor Merrythought arched an eyebrow. "Oh really? Because you see, when I open that wardrobe, whatever you see is what we all see. And I can't give you advice on how to handle your fear if I don't know it."

The Slytherin boy seemed to be contemplating but, eventually, gave up. "I-I don't like boats."

"Boats… hmmm… boats can be terrifying especially if there's bad weather," she rationalized. The professor walked close Derkhart and whispered something on his ear. "Now, get your wand ready. One. Two. Three."

Click. The door creaked slowly open. A gush of water poured out of the wardrobe with a sound of a boat getting louder until it emerged in sight. Dark smoke puffed out of its funnel and a light mist surrounded it. Derkhart's hand quivered as he was holding his wand.

"_Riddikulus_!" he yelled. Immediately, the boat turned into a whale with bubbles coming out of its blowhole.

"Excellent!" Professor Merrythought cheered along with the students. "All right, if you could all please form a line. Let's begin!"

Eric made his way near the front and dragged Harry along. The students before him had fears that any other. Snakes, spiders, the dark, though there were a few odds one. When it was Eric's turn, he did not expect it, but the Gryffindor boy was afraid of heights. His fear was conquered when the "edge of the cliff" turned into a slide.

Harry's laughter seized, though, when it was his turn. Unlike the Gryffindors who were all eager to see how the boy would turn his fear into something hilarious, Harry felt like he was exposing himself – and quite literally at that – to the Slytherins who all looked at him with intensity. What if his fear revealed something that could expose his situation? Panicking, he walked forward, and the slide that Eric formed earlier turned into…

"Professor Merrythought," a voice interrupted. All the students and professor turned their heads to find that the Headmaster stood in front of the door. Harry's eyes remained forward and saw his fear.

"_Ridikkulus_!" he cast the spell and the boggart dissolved into a puff of cloud. Harry puffed it back into the wardrobed where he closed it. Turning around, he could see that everyone's eyes were on him, but he focused his own towards the Headmaster.

"I do apologize for interrupting your class, professor, but may I have a word with you?" Headmaster Dippet asked.

"Of course," she smiled. "Class is dismissed. We'll resume in the next class. For those who have completed the exercise, please write a brief reflection paper. Thank you."

With that, the students made their way out of the classroom. Harry looked back only be given a soft smile from Headmaster Dippet.

"Harry! You sly snake!" Eric smacked his arm. "How'd you know that the Headmaster was going to enter at that time?"

"I didn't."

The Gryffindor boy shrugged. "Well, you're lucky that no one saw your fear. Now, the teams' going to know that I'm afraid of heights."

"You're right. I think that it's in the rulebook that if you're afraid you'll be kicked out," Harry chuckled.

"Thanks for the reassurance," Eric rolled his eyes. "If you'll excuse me, I have to gather my dignity and talk to our captain before word spreads out and things gets out of hand. See you at lunch?"

"Sure you want a sly snake sitting with a bunch of Gryffindors?"

"A little snake like you amongst a dozen lion? That'll be a show," he smirked. "See you then!"

Eric ran off, leaving the boy shaking his head. "I haven't even agreed."

* * *

As predicted, lunch with the Gryffindors was eventful. When Harry arrived with Eric, there were a few glares and some even asked why he was there. Eric was quick to defend his friend. Winston even stood up for him, which earned a bit more trust, particularly from the Gryffindor Quidditch team at least as Eric brother was also on the team. Eventually, the others had loosened up and began to open more to the Slytherin boy.

By the end of the meal, they were all convinced that he should have been housed in Gryffindor instead. A few of the Slytherin students that passed by overheard the comment.

"If you want him to be in your house so bad, no one's stopping you," one of the Slytherin students commented. Lydia, a third-year Gryffindor, rose from her seat and tried to look menacing, though by the looks of it she appeared to only be pouting. Earning a snort, she resorted into using a colourful comment. And, eventually, the situation somehow turned into a conversation about who the better house was.

At the end of it all, some of the students earned detention, including Harry himself. Which was why, the boy was now sitting in a room with several other students instead of the library where he was supposed to meet with Tom. Harry grew in frustration that he was dragged on their mess. He watched the clock like a hawk. Every tick increased his anxiety, and so did the bopping of his leg.

"Mr. Potter, are you in hurry to go somewhere?" Professor Kettleburn, a teacher for care of magical creatures, asked him.

"I-I was asked by my prefect to meet with him, sir."

"Your prefect is Riddle, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"I see…" Professor Kettleburn stroke his beard. "If he asked you personally, I supposed it's something important. I'll let you go, but…"

He motioned the boy to come closer. Harry stood up and looked around to find that others, particularly the Slytherins that had a fight in the Great Hall earlier, sneered at him. The professor scooted closer and whispered, "But, I want you to tell me if he really plans to go through with his plan."

"Umm…"

"Just ask him, my boy. He'll know what I mean. Then, simply relay to me what his plans are. If you do, you don't have to make up the remaining time."

"A-all right."

"Excellent!" he patted the boy's shoulder. "Well, off you go! Don't want to keep your prefect waiting!"

Harry wove his way around the desks and the corridors. Along the way, he began to feel the air growing heavier. His pacing slowed down. His breathe started become a labouring task. He pressed his hand against the wall and leaned against it. Taking a several deep breathes in and out, he looked around to see if there was anyone watching him. No one. Still feeling a bit lightheaded, he marched on.

When he arrived at the table from yesterday, he received a disappointed look from Tom.

"Sorry about being late," he apologized.

"That's fine," Tom placed down the book and crossed his arms. "Care to explain what happened?"

"Gryffindors and Slytherins had a heated conversation during lunch, and I was in crossfire."

"So, you weren't involved?" he prodded.

"N-not exactly…" Harry paused. "A friend of mine invited me to eat with the Gryffindors. I went and things just got out of hand."

Tom smiled with satisfaction. "Glad to see that no one got hurt."

"That's for certain, but where were _you_ during lunch?"

"Went here instead to do a bit more research," he answered. "Now, I assume that you still want to know?"

"You can say that I'm a bit curious."

"A bit," Tom chuckled. The prefect slid an open book across the table towards Harry. "Here, tell me what you see."

Harry read the list of names. "Ursula W. Quil, Xavier P. Ramon, Harriet E. Resmond, Wesley T. Rholler, Ester A. Rostter… Riddle, what are you –"

"Riddle," he whispered sharply. "Riddle."

"Riddle…" Harry repeated. He looked back on the list of student names and reread them. "It's not listed here."

The young wizard nodded. "It's not."

"You should ask to have it fixed and –"

"Silly Harry, this is not about me per se," he corrected. "It's about… my father. This here would have been the yearbook the year my father would have graduated. But I can't seem to find his name."

"You assume he went to Hogwarts?"

"I highly doubt that he attended a wizarding school outside of England," he answered. There was a firmness in his voice that Harry felt like he should not inquire further.

"So, why are you telling me this?"

"For one, you were curious. Two, I assumed you also have a similar background as me."

Harry swallowed a nervous hiccup. "What makes you say so?"

"Call it intuition, but I know when I see someone who's had a rough childhood, especially when he hardly spoke positive things about his family," he smiled. "So, I thought that it would us both well to help each other out on our family issues."

Harry was at lost for words. There seemed to be no excuse for him to not agree to Tom's offer. And as much as it would help him knowing more about Tom's past to steer the young wizard away from the path of darkness, it could may well be him declaring about his own past. A past that he was not prepared to share with someone he hardly knows, let alone the future dark lord.

Tom seemed to pick up his hesitance and grabbed the book from the boy's hand. "You don't have to, of course."

"I-It's not that I don't want to help," he quickly uttered. "It's just –"

"You're not comfortable sharing about your past?"

Harry nodded. Tom stood up and fixed his tie. "That's understandable. But you know, it's probably for the best that you find someone _you_ can trust about your past as I did with mine to you."

Tom plastered on a gentle smile that only the right corner of his mouth bent up. He lets outs soft breath and pats the table before he took off. Harry sat there contemplating on what he should do. If he trusts Tom with a bit more about his past, it may come back to him, especially since he used his real name. He had intended to use an alternate name but knowing himself and the Ron incident this morning, he knew he would slip up. Plus, he would have to create a new background about himself. It would have been worth the trouble to do so, but without knowing much about his family background – he would have to thank his Aunt and Uncle Dursley for that – if he messed up, it could may vary well led him into deeper trouble as Tom was smart enough to possibly seeing through his lies.

Even worse, he could do research on him and find out there was no such as last name that exists. At least with his name as Potter, he could play as a nephew or something. As such, sticking with his real name and sharing little information as possible was the only option at the time. However, Tom seemed to be hinting that he knows more about him than himself and what he let out during their conversation. So, despite the risk revealing too much, he decided to make a risky decision.

Harry lets outs an exasperated sigh. He had hope to do this only in a moment of crisis, but it seemed that fate had given him the short end of the stick again. With not much time think about it, he had to trust Tom Riddle.

* * *

**A/N: **Thank you so much for sticking through with me! The actual story/content of the chapter is a bit short, though not by much. Please bear with me! I will say that there are still things that are happening so… Speaking of things happening, if you aren't keeping a mental or physical note of what's been happening, I advise you to do so. *wink* *wonk*

Anyways, a few information got revealed. Now, you know why Hagrid was at the hut and that he's in his second year. More importantly, I hope you understand why Harry kept his real name. I had intended to change Harry's name, but as I was watching scenes from the film, it felt OOC if he did change it. I think that if Hermione was there to help him keep his role, it would have been fine. However, Harry can be a little bit of a chaotic mess, so I kept the name.

Also, for a brief explanation for the DADA class scenario! In this story, Harry is a first year. DADA is taught throughout the seven years, but I highly doubt they were facing boggarts during their first year, even if they aren't dangerous. However, for the purpose of the story and because this is just a fanfiction, I wanted to use this opportunity as a chance for exploration. So, please don't come at me with pitchforks.

As a side note, I would like you all to know that I also got a "detention" from something stupid like what happened to Harry. I don't know why, but I got detention because I was helping out a student with a question. Since it was primary school, detention really meant that you couldn't go out during break time (recess). I somehow got out early and met up with my friends. Since I can't remember how, I just imagined myself either sneaking out or reasoning my way out. There was no in between. *shrugs*

I hope you all enjoy the rather late update! Let me know what you think of the arc one so far! :D


	8. Chapter 8: A Winter Shenanigan (Part 1)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter. All characters in the series are rightfully owned by J.K. Rowling. All original characters and plot changes that are made in the story are written by me (JayPolar).

**PLEASE READ BOTH AUTHOR'S NOTE!**

**A/N: **Hello everyone! I would like to first apologize for the late update. If you do not read my other fiction, I was sick last week. I would have still updated, but I got a headache that I just couldn't. I had to update my other fiction first because I made my readers there wait longer. But trust that I love both my fiction works and readers equally!

Speaking of update, right now I'm trying to type as fast as I can because I will be heading the airport early in the morning. I will be going on a three-week travel without any electronics besides my camera. This also means that the **next update will not be until mid-July**. I apologize for the suddenness!

Thank you to my new reviewer ghostmarine51 for your review! I took your thought into consideration and actually agree with you. Therefore, if you all re-read chapter one's author's note, though you don't have to, I have changed the wording. Plot is the same but… let's just it's going to a lot harder for the ship to sail. Also, thank you again for your reviews Mariyah and Enes! I have addressed your comments in the previous chapter, if you have not read them. Finally, thank you for the new follows and favourites!

Happy reading!

* * *

-Chapter 8: A Winter Shenanigan (Part 1)-

Autumn passed and now snow had piled up as the weather prepared itself for the middle of winter. All the while, things have been uneventful and eventful at the same time that it baffled Harry at how he's still alive. For one, schoolwork was harder than he had expected. Since there were several information that was not yet discovered or was only partially explored, he had to be careful not to show that he knew more than he let others believe. He did almost blow his cover when he scored higher in a potions test than the number one Ravenclaw in that class. The following test and any assignments that was graded, he made sure that he scored no higher than Eric, who had an average score.

Outside from classes, he would never forget or want to spend another hour after school every day for a whole week with Professor Kettleburn. He had to do so because he forgot to pass his message. Apparently, in doing so, it delayed the process. Whatever that "process" was, Harry wouldn't know. He even received a good scolding from his Quidditch captain, Walt Xaivier, when he found out that he would be missing that weeks' practice. He too felt like scolding himself. He had to spend a whole day just sitting idly doing absolutely nothing. However, it was not for naught. Professor Kettleburn did allow him to do his assignments, but he busied himself doing research on his family name.

Truthfully speaking, there was not much to tell. The only major news that he could find was about his grandfather, Fleamont Potter. He was the reason why he had a lot of money going in to his first year during his timeline. This was problematic for him, though. Last names are important – particularly to pure bloods – and him having the same last name raises questions.

By the end of the week, however, he managed to come up with an excuse just incase it was ever brought up. What, then, made the days go by fast was every time him and Tom would go over to their spot in the library or in that corridor with the large window by the sea. They would talk about their day or how their class was going. Really, they were mundane topics. However, a competition between the two of them to get background information out of each other was made without their awareness that helped their conversation reach a decent level. Though, with both being stubborn, they still hardly knew each other.

"And my glasses fogged up that I almost hit the pole," Harry shook his head as he took a bite off his sandwich.

Tom chuckled. "You should really be more carefully during practice. It wouldn't help the team on an actual game if you're injured."

"I know," Harry rolled his eyes as he hid back a smile.

The two of them finished their lunch in the corridor and broke their path. Harry was heading to his History of Magic class whilst Tom was off to his Charms class. When Harry entered the class, he was greeted by the three people he became friends with. Two of them were Ravenclaws and the other was a Slytherin. It was a bit awkward at first, but the four of them made it pass their differences. It also helped that they were a group of four. Currently, they were working on a group project that required them to partner up into a group of three or four.

It surprised Harry too that of his three new friends, the one most likely to get into shenanigans, sometimes along with him, was Busig. She was a Ravenclaw through and through. She was top of not only for the class but the entire first year. Nevertheless, she never missed an opportunity to get them all into doing "explorations" – as she called it.

"And trust me when I say that it will be much more amazing than the night of the stars!" Harry over heard Busig whisper between her fit of her giggles.

"What's going on?" he asked them as he took his seat.

There was an exasperated sigh that was released from Frida's mouth. "_Busig_ here has been tempting us to break yet another school rule. But, apparently, it's going to be better than _that _day. Clearly the cold is getting through her head."

"Yet I'm still number one," the Ravenclaw brunette smirked. "Harry, please say yes! I promise it will be much more exciting!"

"I don't even know what we're doing," he pointed out as he sat down next to her.

"She wants us to try and sneak out tonight to get a ridiculous book, which is the least adventures thing you've yet to come up with," Borg, the other Slytherin, commented.

"Excuse me? I'll have you know that book that you rudely called it is written by Edwin Montereux," Busig crossed her arms. Then, Harry saw a sparkly emit from Frida and Borg's eyes.

"Did you say Montereux? As in _the_ Montereux?" Frida clarified. Busig nodded and she almost gasped for air. Borg tried to keep his composure but could hardly stop himself from clearing his throat.

It seemed as though Busig noticed Harry's confused state and explained who he was. Before he could answer, class begun. However, there was no need to utter an agreement as they all yet again fell into Busig's shenanigan.

* * *

Before dusk rolled around, Harry slowly put on foot after the other on the floor. He had already changed out of his robes into the clothes that he was wearing when he first arrived at his new timeline. Now, the easy part was walking out of the room and out to the corridor. The hard part was actually sneaking out of the school. Of all of the houses, Slytherin was the farthest away from any of the others. This mean that he had to pass several corridors and prefects before he could meet up with them.

The boy tried to maneuver his way, but without the Marauder's Map it was harder. Before turning around the corner, he heard whispering and saw a soft glow. He took a peek and found that the voice was coming from the young wizard he met by the washroom entrance. There was another person there with him, but Harry wasted no time. He tried to quietly go back and find a different path, but a hand caught his shoulders.

He took a deep breath in and turned around. "Hi."

The young wizard's face was scorning. "What did you hear?"

"N-nothing!" he answered. The grip on his shoulder tightened. He harshly brushed it off. "Piss off, would you? I told you I didn't hear anything. And if I did hear something, it had nothing to do with me."

The vice-like grip was finally released from his shoulders. He soothed it with his hand to ease the pain. There was an awkward paused between the two of them.

"So, what are you doing here then?" the young wizard asked.

"I could ask you the same thing, but it's also none of your concern," Harry sneered. "Now, if you'll excuse me." He would have certainly smacked his shoulder on to the young wizard's own shoulders just to piss him, if he wasn't so short – better yet, if that Slytherin boy wasn't so tall. However, he did manage to warn him that if he tells a soul about seeing him, he would threaten to do the same.

"Is that a threat?" the Slytherin wizard questioned with a slightly amused tone. Harry smirked and walked off.

* * *

The four wizards met up at their now gathering spot and began to play out their plan of exiting the school. Things went smoothly according to their first plan. To their backs was the wall of the school and just in front of them was the Forbidden Forest. As if something was pulling him, Harry had begun walking towards it.

Frida's hand reached for his. "What are you doing Harry?"

"I-I don't know," he stammered in his words.

"Come on, we're waiting time," Borg whispered.

The quartet swiftly made it to the train station and sat on their sit.

"You all owe me for buying these tickets," Busig pointed at each one of them.

"This was your idea!" Frida exclaimed.

"It was…"

"How'd you even manage to get them?" Borg asked.

"Wore a lady's outfit yesterday and bought them for my children to ride the train to visit," Busig smirked.

"But we look nothing alike," Borg eyebrows furrowed, which earned a hardy laugh from the three. Harry and Busig could pass as siblings as they both have green eyes and she has dark hair that seemed raven as his. Frida and Busig could be cousins with their freckled face and dark hair. Borg, on the other hand, he had curly blonde hair and dark brown eyes. He was also the tallest of them all. In essence, he was the complete opposite of the trio. A tree amongst the grass – if trees had blonde curly hair that is.

The train finally begun its engine and soon they were on their way. The four began talking about Montereux, though Harry opted to listen more. Their conversation was cut short when a familiar wizard entered their view.

"Mind if I join?"

"Riddle," they collectively spoke.

The young wizard sat right next to Harry and flashed a smile. "I suppose this is rather awkward, but I'll you all off this one time if you all promise not to this again. The school can't protect you if you're out of its property."

They all nodded their heads, but Harry couldn't keep his mouth shut. "But you can?"

"Silly, Harry," Tom ruffled his hair. He rolled his eyes and softly swatted the hand away.

"Tom… err… Riddle…" Frida stammered.

"Tom is fine," he grinned.

Frida's cheeks turned to a light shade of pink. "How'd you find out?"

"I think it might have been my fault," Borg admitted. "I was talking to Quint about getting a signed autograph and…"

"No, I didn't get it second hand," Tom interrupted. "I got from Harry himself."

"What?" Harry exclaimed.

"He didn't actually say anything, but you're not exactly stealthy, my friend," he smirked. "I followed you out and got a ticket."

"But how'd you get a ticket?" Busig asked curiously.

"I know Bedford," he answered. "The ticket argent."

"Ahhh…" was what Busig replied with.

The rest of the ride wasn't what Harry expected. In fact, the conversation never ran dry. Tom had filled in any gaps between conversation until one topic perfectly connected to the next. When the train stopped was when their conversation had finally come to an end. They all exited the train and began making their way to Diagon Alley.

The street was a lot darker, but it seemed as though Tom himself was used to it. He even helped guide them around the rubbles on the ground. Once they entered Diagon Alley, there was a stark difference. It was much of lively and still had a lot of people out.

"Must be because of the event," Frida commented.

The quintet made their way around the crowd and headed towards centre of where the event was taking place.

"Over here!" Busig called over. They finally settled to a seat and waited for the man of the hour to arrive.

* * *

**A/N: **I know, it is a bit of a short chapter and an abrupt one, but I wanted to get a good chapter out before heading to bed. It was also hard to find a place to cut it without making one chapter too short or too long. Besides that, I am actually happy at the turn out of the chapter despite not having much things happening. I wanted to skip much of autumn since nothing much happens during that time in terms of plot for both this fiction and the HP world. So, I hope none of you are too mad about that. But trust me when I say winter is going to be exciting! I not only have this adventure bit playing but something you will all squeal (hopefully) with joy.

Side note, the part doing shenanigans in school is something I've done multiple times during my primary school years. Particularly for me, instead of doing the cliché and simple go outside for break, I would sneak around to go the library to go sleep or snoop around to find something interesting. It almost got me in trouble one time by a guardian, but I found my way around it. *snicker*

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! To my Swedish readers, I think you will chuckle at Busig's name. Remember though, she is still smart!

I will see you all in mid-July! :D


	9. Chapter 9: A Winter Shenanigan (Part 2)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter. All characters in the series are rightfully owned by J.K. Rowling. All original characters and plot changes that are made in the story are written by me (JayPolar).

**PLEASE READ AUTHOR'S NOTE!**

**A/N: **Hello everyone! Thank you so much for being patient with me and are still reading my story! Now, I didn't tell you this, but I am a comedian. I said that I was going to update the story mid-July. *insert hysterical laughter* *wipes tear* Wow, I'm hilarious. Yeah… that didn't go as planned. After I got back, I simply had no energy to write due to the time change. Now, I'm back with more energy because the comedy world just wasn't working for me. Yay!

Before you proceed, though, I must warn you all about future updates. As I currently reside in the States, the USA or across the pond (or as my friends say 'merica), it means summer is ending and school is drawing closer. Updates on both of my stories will, then, be rare. No updates will be made during midterm/final months (dates will be posted when the time comes) because I cannot handle doing too many things during those months and due to personal reasons. It's sad and you might be frustrated at me to hear this just after a long break, but I'm prioritizing my health first and just want to warn you all ahead of time. Whilst writing does help alleviate the tension off from schoolwork, it does take a lot of energy. I love writing, but I don't want it to end up as a chore. So, updates will be scattered starting near the end of August, but they **will **there.

Wow. I'm so full of good news.

Still, I hope that you all understand. For now, though, I will be writing as much as I can and as frequently as I can. Just like you all, I'm excited at how the story will progress. In fact, I am quite literally shaking with excitement about posting this chapter! This will be A LOT longer than the previous chapters you've seen because I just didn't have enough time to properly split the parts up.

Happy reading! :D

(Side note: There is a bit of French here. Translation will be in parenthesis.)

* * *

-Chapter 9: A Winter Shenanigan (Part 2)-

Once they were seated, the now quintet group resumed back into their conversation.

Other conversations could be heard in the room. At the corner was a couple holding a book in front of them and passionately talking about the contents. Their hands waiving about in the air. Just behind Frida was another couple who were less animated with their bodies but were more boisterous with their voice. Still, it wasn't as loud as the group next to those two. In fact, the whole room never fell short of silence that quintet group had to speak as if they were talking to someone on the other side of the street of Diagon Alley.

A tall, redhead woman with plump red cheeks came to offer a drink to group to which Busig happily accepted but first threw a hesitated look at Tom. The prefect gave a brushed off shrug. Busig reached for the jug.

"You can't have that!" Frida swatted her hands doing no effect at all.

"It's fine, ma'am," the lady grinned in her west midland accent. "It's just perewós."

"Of course, it is," Busig agreed and took the jug from her hand. The lady offered to the members, but they all shook heads. When she left, Busig lets out a sigh. "Frida don't look at me like that. I'm a lady. And a lady sometimes needs a broþ to wash away her frustration over her husband."

"First of all, you're no lady," Frida rolled her eyes, earning a scoff from her friend. "Second, _if_ you do ever a husband, I'd say _he_ should be the one drinking over _your_ ridiculousness."

"And something much stronger too," Borg added.

"I'll have you know that boys are constantly rolling over towards me," Busig took a sip and immediately scorned. "This is absolutely disgusting!"

"You might have mistaken them rolling their eyes at you," Borg corrected. "Here, let me try."

"Not you too," Frida complained but did nothing to stop them. There was a hint of sparkle in her eyes. So, when Borg also commented the same thing, she did not hesitate to the concoction. Her face scrunched at the distaste of the liquid. She passed the jug to Harry.

"I think we should stop here," Tom interjected the exchange.

"Come on, Tom, a sip wouldn't hurt," Busig pouted.

He raised an eyebrow. "Don't you know what you just sipped?" There was silent response. The prefect lets out a sigh. He withheld commenting on the intellect of the first rank Ravenclaw. "That was perewós stultus."

Busig gasped, seemingly less worried than her two other victims.

"You!" Frida points at her.

Confused, Harry asked, "What's that?"

"It's a drink that's been tampered with a bit of magic," Busig answered with a mused look on her face.

Before anyone else could make further comment, the lights dimmed to an almost complete darkness. The stage in front of them lit up until a short and petite woman presented herself. At that, the whole room roared with applause, even Frida and Borg's heated eyes towards Busig simmered down and was replaced with glee.

A clear of the woman's throat was all it took to silence the whole room. She squinted her eyes and scanned around. As if satisfied with her observation, she bowed her head and gestured an arm to the side. On cue, a tall man with a red and black checkered sweater waltzed through. Everyone seemed to straighten their backs that Harry felt obligated to follow. He could hardly see the man's eyes due to the light creating a shadow over the tip of his flat cap. And though tall the man may be, his frame was rather on the thinner side. Harry felt no threat despite the looming figure in front of him.

No one made a sound as the man sat on the soft looking couch that was placed next to him. So, when he flipped open the book that he was carrying, it was almost deafening.

"Mad, they call me. Mad. 'Tis but a madness unless it becomes part of the mass," he uttered. Everyone lets out what seemed to be long held breath. Finally, the man smiled and closed the book.

"Thank you all for coming this evening. If you are unaware, my name is Monsieur Edwin Montereux, though I suppose I should not doubt that you all came here with that knowledge," he joked earning laughter from the audience. "Now, I could talk endless, but I will be frank, I do feel a bit under the weather. And I do like hearing from my readers. So, go on. Let me hear whatever it is on your mind and we shall talk about it."

There was a bit of hesitancy from the audience as the lights slowly returned. However, without a second longer, Busig shot her hand up.

"Ahh, yes, you there, young lady," Montereux gestured his hand.

Busig stood up and grinned. "Bonsoir Monsieur Montereux (Good evening Mr. Montereux)!"

"Bonsoir mademoiselle (Good evening, miss)," he greeted back. "Vous êtes français (Are you French)?"

"Non, mais j'étudie le français (No, but I'm studying French)."

"Well, your accent is most excellent, miss…"

"Busig Feila," she answered. "As for topic, it's more of a question. How do you know when it's the right time to publish your work when you never feel like there's a _right_ time?"

Montereux leans back on his couch and pats his belly with is index finger. "I think that there is never truly a _right_ time. I most certainly still feel like there is something that I must fix in my own work."

"But your books are perfect!" someone commented, which gets a hardy cry of agreement from the room.

Montereux chuckled. "Thank you, sir."

"That still doesn't answer my question though," Busig pushed.

Montereux closed his eyes and taps on his chin. His humming stopped, and he fixed his gaze back. "You're quite right, Ms. Feila, that knowing that there is still something that you can fix on your work can hinder your desire to show your work. Whilst this is true, it is not up to us – or, simply, _I_ choose not to be the one that decides whether it's time to show someone my work. It is those who read my works that do."

"Then, when are you ever _satisfied_ enough to publish?" Busig rephrased her question. Harry looked at his friend. The Ravenclaw may sometimes have irrational choices, but she was never this stubborn with asking questions. That even with the desire to seek every knowledge in that small head of hers, she keeps herself composed.

"Satisfaction is not my goal, Ms. Feila," Montereux smiled. "I simply write until my quench to share my idea is satisfied. And perfect it may not be, it seems that imperfection caused you to be drawn into my works, has it not?"

"So, you write simply because you have much in mind and believe others might enjoy your random thoughts?" Busig suggests. Montereux smirked and shrugged his shoulders. "Brilliant!"

Satisfied, Busig sat down. Soon after, the room became a frenzy. One hand after another shot up asking questions. Several times the room had to be calmed down so that one did not speak over the other. And soon, the hour was whisked away.

Throughout the hour, Harry was fascinated at how the author commented on every question. The man never waivered on his responses. He never backed away from what seemed like personal questions. As a matter of fact, he sometimes even challenged those that question him. It made Harry wonder how come he never knew such a man existed during his lifetime. Though, in hindsight, the reason he was probably because he was secluded in his world was. And the main reason for that was because of a certain someone sitting beside him.

When the hour ended, there were still half of the room was still about a dozen left in the room that stayed for an extra twenty minutes. They were now sitting in a circle with Montereux sitting directly to the other side of Harry.

"Sir," the redhead woman from earlier patted on Montereux's shoulder and smiled.

"Pity," he pouted. He grabbed his spectacle and wiped it with his handkerchief. He carefully placed it back to his right eye. "Again, thank you very much for coming here today and staying for longer than had intended. It was a pleasure."

Everyone started shaking hands one by one with the tall man. Harry queued himself to the very back. Without asking a single question, he felt as though he did not deserve to be in front. Yet, it would make him rude if he did not shake the man's hand as well. When it was finally his turn, he looked up and saw a pair of beautiful dark eyes. It was as if a pair of black onyx gemstones had been placed there.

"Thank you for coming," the man tipped his hat as he shook the boy's hand.

"May I ask you a question?" Harry blurts out. He could tell that Montereux was taken back by the suddenness but form a smile that wrinkled the corners the man's eyes. He felt a sense of gentleness behind those opaque eyes. "What if you must go back to your story and rewrite to get a better ending?"

Once again, the man tapped on his chin – something that Harry noticed he would often do when given a challenging question. Eventually the tapping stopped.

"Am I rewriting to get a better ending because my readers dislike it or because of imperfections?" Montereux asked.

"Both?"

"Humour the old man," he grinned.

"Your readers dislike it, but it was _because_ it was created by the imperfections," Harry clarified.

"That's quite conundrum," the spectacled man snorted. "But, if that were to happen, I do hope someone would come and give me a good whack in the head. What shall I address you as?"

"Harry."

"Well, I suppose if I call you by your first name, you can call me Edwin."

Before Harry could argue differently, Montereux continued. "Harry, I believe you to be a smart young man, given that you are here. That might sound that I am boasting, to which I will admit that I am," he chuckled. "But I claim such assumptions for both you and I because we are smart enough to know that humans are imperfect. And because of that, we are likely to create imperfect things. Such that I can create books that some may not find appealing. Now, if it's the mass that find my book so terrible, then I shall look at it. Find where the imperfections are. Possibly grimace at it. Close the book, toss it and move on."

"I cannot go back and recreate something that I already worked hard for, though that be debated as I toss whatever thoughts I have into writing. Nonetheless, what was done is done. So, I simply write a continuation of the story that is more brilliant. And…" he chuckled. "Call it what you will, but it will force them to read my horrendous work. Then, and only then, will they see the progress that I have made. And I will get a joyous laugh in the end when they made their mistake by calling my work atrocious as they proceed to read the following story with gaping mouths."

Montereux bends down and pats Harry's shoulder. "You _can_ look at your imperfect work and weep at how horrible it is. But do _not_ forget that despite a more eloquent work, it is still a continuation of a story. New characters can come in. New events will take place. The whole story could turn into something different than what you may have intended. Even so, you've learned and now have knowledge from all sides to write an incredible tale."

With that, words were taken out of Harry's mouth. He simply nodded his head and shook the man's hand once more before the quintet left the building.

Making it just in the nick of time, they were back on the Hogwarts Express. Apparently, the drink that the three sipped was a liquid that boosts one's confidence. Tom had explained it was probably to allow the audience to gather courage to ask their questions.

"I see," Harry nodded his head. He gazed at the three in front of him. Busig was sitting in the middle with her head leaning to Borg's right shoulder. Borg's face was plastered on the wall of the train. It was being smushed as Frida was curled into a ball, giving little room for the other two. Her face was on Busig's lap, and she was snoring lightly. "I guess it drains your energy afterwards, then."

Tom nodded his head. "Are you tired?"

"Not much," Harry stretched. "I'm just tired of sitting down."

"You can walk around if you want. There's no one else on this side of train."

Harry stood up and paced around the small corridor of the train. His thoughts were still filled with his memory of Montereux's word of advice for him – or at least he interpreted it as an advice more him.

* * *

Tom relaxed a bit more when Harry left to pace around. It wasn't like he was not comfortable in the boy's presence. In fact, he would rather have the boy sitting beside him. However, he knew that there was no way Harry was not tired. It was already drawing close to eleven last he checked his pocket watch. By the time they reached Hogwarts, it would be past midnight. And despite sitting the whole hour earlier, he noticed how Harry was listening intensely at the questions and responses. With that much focus, it would make anyone tired. He even got tired just looking.

Speaking of earlier, he surprised himself at how Montereux spoke. It was not like he had no idea at how the man was eloquent with his words. He had read every book that the author had published and knew that with the way the man can write that he was an excellent conversationalist. Yet to actual hear his own thoughts, Tom was certain the man had a strong conviction on not only his word but his skills with words. That his words can influence the mass. A trait that he possessed that he even admires for himself.

To think that he would have missed this if had not stayed awake. He was had just finished his round as prefect. He was lying on his bed trying to go sleep, but his head was filled with thoughts about his plans. Thankfully, much of them have been solved already, but there was still the problem of his family background. The problem, though, did not come close as another problem rose on his to-do list. It would not stop nagging him in the head. Harry. If he had known that the boy would have given him this much trouble, he would have probably ignored him. Still, he knew that convincing himself that the raven-haired boy was the least interesting thing he's encountered this year would be foolish of him.

Why Harry made up the list was not because he still hardly knew anything about the boy. No, that could easily be solved. Their little game during their meal serves as the solution. However, no amount of sandwiches would tell him why Harry Potter had not told him why he did not live with his… well, he does not even know his relation to Fleamont Potter! Surely the boy could have lived with the Fleamont, the head of the Potter family, instead of some uncle and aunt with no power in the family. It irritated him not knowing, but there has not been a right time to ask. It would be rather awkward to bring up the topic since he only found his out when he was looking up his own dysfunctional family.

That was another problem. He started to think about how certain topics may not be appropriate to bring up with his conversation with Harry. It was something he ever prioritized. Nonetheless, here he was contemplating on how to go about it as he stares at…

Tom stood up and peeked his head out.

"Harry?" he called.

No answer.

He felt his stomach churn. He ignored the feeling and stepped out of the carriage. To his left he heard soft thuds. He walked towards the sound and saw Harry was sitting on the floor. He was throwing a ball with lax on the ground. The boy watched it bounce to the wall and back to his palms.

"Where did you get that?" Tom sat beside him.

"I found it in the carriage behind me," Harry answered. "It was probably accidentally left by a child."

"I see."

The two sat there without talking with Harry keeping a steady rhythm of ball's bounces.

* * *

When they finally returned, Busig, Frida and Borg were all, thankfully, awake. They girls headed for the Ravenclaw house as the three boys made their way back to the Slytherin house. As soon as they entered the common room, Borg swayed his way to the couch and dozed off.

"Leave him," Tom rolled his eyes. The two remaining Slytherin boys walked up the stairs and changed into their pajamas. They sat on their allotted bed. Harry to the right and Tom on the left with another student's bed wedged between the two.

"G-good night?" Harry questioned.

"But it's morning," Tom chuckled softly.

"I guess, good morning then."

"Good morning, Harry."

"Will you shut up?" the student between them groaned.

At that, they closed their eyes to get some sleep. Though, a good night's sleep it was not for a certain green-eyed boy.

* * *

**A/N: **Yay! A new chapter! So, a lot of dialogue for my OC Monsieur Edwin Montereux. I did not expect him to talk that much, but c'est la vie. Oh, might I add that, yes, I am learning French and proud to say can _actually_ have a conversation, read, and write in the language. Not that I'm amazing at it, but I'm decent.

On a different note, I had not intendent for two things to happen. One, I was not expecting Tom's perspective to be that long. But I think that it needed to be done for his character arc. Two, I was going to end the chapter with a happier tone, but there was too much cuteness going on. So, I became evil and did that. :D

I hope that you all enjoy the chapter! Please let me know what you think by reviewing!


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